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Macha Sparrowsong
Posted: 08 Feb 2004 07:51 PM |
Macha strolled through the forest, singing a song of forboding and loss to herself. Her tears flowed down her face unchecked, and occassionally her flowing voice faltered, but still she sang. As she approached a fork in the path, she turned her head away from the left hand path and paused for a moment in her song. Her mother and she had bathed often in the stream down that path...her mother..no longer her mother. She had been forsaken...cast out...Sobbing, she broke down, lying in the path and letting her emotions have their rein.
Some time later, she lay spent. Her heart still throbbed painfully in her chest, but she had no more tears left to cry. Sitting up, she came alert at the sound of voices approaching, and scrambled to enter the wood off the side of the path soundlessly. If they caught her again...
"...think she was doing, singing that song in front of everyone?" She heard a female voice stridently ask. "I mean, the little scamp...humiliating all of us with that tale of mixed parentage!"
"I have no idea. Leleia, you know there isn't any truth to that, anyhow. Fancys of the young, that's all!" Macha startled to hear her mothers voice, emphatically denouncing her to that busybody...
"Well, dear, you were gone for such a long time, all that time ago..." Leleia let her pause settle meaningfully. "But, of course, if you say that Lefornas is her father, then that's that. Really...I don't see why the girl would insist on having human blood anyway. Imagine, claiming to be a half-blood."
Macha felt her face flame red. Truth was truth after all...what was the shame in knowing her real parentage? And her song, her song of claiming her past, her future, who she really was...to be denounced, cast out...She hung her head in shame, her heart breaking all over again as she relived the pain of being shunned by her neighbors, by her parents... |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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Macha's Claiming Song
Posted: 08 Feb 2004 08:11 PM |
One bright spring day, afull of flowers,
Elven Nuala wandered the bowers,
beauty, golden waving hair, that glittered in the dewy air.
Dainty feet and bright wide smile, who could resist this darlings wiles?
Not a care did Nuala have, she wandered freely singing.
Through the forest and meadow she played
singing, dancing, ne'er afraid,
by a brook she sank to drink,
and bathed her body, bright and sleek,
Nuala splashed and swam and played, she wandered freely singing.
When time for sunset soon it came,
She watched the sun and called her name,
she sang a song of fiery passion,
her voice declaring in daring fashion,
None had matched her love and eros, she wandered freely singing.
When from the woods a ringing tone,
drifted out to match her own,
bright blue eyes widened surprised,
human eyes to match early sunrise,
to match her song of passion and love, he wandered freely singing.
They could not resist the others call,
they fell together, singing still,
their passion met, and bodies joined,
no thoughts of what their tryst may coin,
they laughed and loved and once again, they wandered freely singing.
Fair Nuala was herself betrothed,
and returned to whom she called her own.
They married, loved and made a home,
and soon a daughter ceased her roam,
And Nuala knew this girl was born, of passions freely singing.
Her husband claimed the girl his own,
Though knowing full she wasn't sown,
In bed through marriage he had made,
Nualas beauty, he would reign,
And so he hid what he did know, the girl made freely singing.
Bright and fair, this girl would grow,
And one day her own song she would know,
she loved and laughed and called her name,
her parentage she would freely claim,
She knew her truth, and loved them still, she'd wander freely singing. |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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Re: Macha's Claiming Song
Posted: 08 Feb 2004 08:14 PM |
| ((OOC absolutely beautiful!)) |
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
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Re: Macha's Claiming Song
Posted: 08 Feb 2004 11:07 PM |
| ((OOC brought tears to my eyes..wonderful Macha!)) |
~ Kriayna Wildberry ~
-this post has in no way been paid for nor endorsed by PAJWT, The Broken Mask tavern, The Black Hand, or any other completely unrelated group- |
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Re: Macha's Claiming Song
Posted: 08 Feb 2004 11:36 PM |
* Auberon applauds heartily* What a wonderful, wonderful gift you have! A song of love and mystery yet.
And of the truest kind - love borne not from honor or responsibility, but a love that knows no boundries, beyond heritage, beyond race and creed.
Simple perfect!
Auberon |
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Re: Macha's Claiming Song
Posted: 09 Feb 2004 02:05 AM |
((*applauds*))
-Barnas |
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Lonely Bard
Posted: 15 Feb 2004 11:32 AM |
*ooc - it's been a while, RL has kept me busy. I can't remember the exact events of the foray I had with Auberon, Kayel and Krianya, so I'll just keep this short and not put in the details...If any of you have a better memory than I, please contribute!*
Macha wiped her eyes sleepily with the back of her hand. Sitting up, it took her a moment to realize she wasn't sleeping wrapped up in her cloak on the forest floor, but on a cot in a room. Yawning, she looked around, trying to remember where she was this time.
It had been a long, hard journey, especially for one who had not been away from home more than a days journey in her life. Luckily, she had found a caravan leaving her village only a day out, and had been able to barter her way into it for songs and stories along the way. She had been careful not to sing her claiming song, though. The caravan was filled with elves from Ferein journeying to Port Royale, and she wasn't about to risk being kicked out for being a half-breed. She spent much of the time alone, sitting on the edge of a cart and staring into space.
Ah! The Four Winds, that's where it was! Just outside the Port. The others had gone on and made camp, but she had decided to seperate herself early, and check out the Inn. Perhaps she could stay there and sing her songs, away from eyes that might judge her. Standing up, she noticed her stomach rumbling hungrily. May as well go up and see what kind of a meal I can find, she thought. Not bothering to change, she wandered out of her room and up the stairs.
A bard! There was already a bard here! Macha sighed, then took another bite of her stew. It was good. Too bad she would have to move on. Probably no room for two bards. Looking around the room, she noticed two people standing toward the center of the room...maybe they would know of another Inn....
"Hello." She approached cautiously, speaking only when she noticed one of them looking over their shoulder at her. "I'm Macha...Sparrowsong. Pleasure to meet you." |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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Re: Lonely Bard
Posted: 15 Feb 2004 06:35 PM |
Ahh yes! Macha Sparrowsong... I remember that night. And actually, the Four Winds was quite a troupe of bards that evening, with Popé, Macha, and myself... But all the more entertaining! We each have our own style.
Some are strong in their convictions, singing bolsterous songs of courage!
Some are soft in their approach, like a nightinggale harking a sweet melody....
Some are poetic as they revel in enchanting weaves,
and some... (like me) have an odd sense of humor.
It was a great pleasure to meet you. Can't wait to hear the stories of how your journies have progressed since that night and where they will lead you!
Auberon |
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Re: Lonely Bard
Posted: 16 Feb 2004 01:33 PM |
Callia smiled to herself and blushed at the thoughts floating unchecked to the surface of her mind.
A night of bardic revelry . . . song and laughter, cares set aside for even one evening.
Perhaps that would be just what was needed. Maybe she would see if the bards gather there regularly, maybe the Four Winds was a center for that.
She would have to revisit the inn and see. |
Rutger_13
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Not all who wander are lost |
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Re: Lonely Bard
Posted: 16 Feb 2004 02:19 PM |
Loli and Avari looked after Macha as she went off towards Midor. "She'll do, don't you think?" asked Loli of Avari. Avari smiled a little as she replied "Yes. She will." The two were always happy to find another kindred soul, and Macha seemed to fit that description.
Macha Sparrowsong, singing her Claiming Song to the group at Paws Tavern.
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Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
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Re: Lonely Bard
Posted: 16 Feb 2004 05:11 PM |
*strolls into the tavern*
Ahh! a friendly poetry reading... This one is most pleased to listen with great acumen. *Eyes well up at the poem* Sits in silence.
Sinjin has a number of poems he has read in the ancient scrolls and pages of books at the great library of Midor... *pauses* Let this one leave you with these words about a king of old from a land not so unlike our own:
The Ballad of a Lost Soul
The wind howled, the thunder clashed
And night was day when lightning flashed
A lonely spirit from death did rise
With ghoulish skin and crimson eyes
A single traveller braved the night
And fought back fear and endless fright
That single traveller the spirit found
With a banshee wail, his soul was bound
"Hearken!" that spirit cried
"Let this ballad be your guide;
Macbeth did die on yonder hill
But roams the night, endless, still
Ages past, Macbeth did greet
Three hags of endless feat
Three names hailed him they
Thought he more than three did say
With forked tongue and honest trifle
Macbeth's spirit they did stifle
With his flaws, they sought his soul
By his flaws, the King's head did roll
'Naught was had, yet all was spent
When his desire was got without content'
So Macbeth rode to the hags again
And their last prophecy proved his bane
'There, by the strength of their illusion
They drew him on to his confusion'
He scorned death, spurned fate
And held his hopes above wisdom and grace
Thus doomed to never rest
Nor pray, nor heave a cry at best
Macbeth tells his sorry tale
And prays on your ears not to fail"
The spell was gone, the magic spent
The spectre fled, his spirit rent
The weary traveller stood there still
Bound in foot by regal will.
*Stops reciting and blushes as he realizes the length of his recital* Many thanks to you all for the listening of these words. Pleased to go back to your drinking and merriment? *gulp*
*Walks out of the Tavern, his face reddening* |
Humbly Submitted,
Sinjin Kane |
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A Meeting of Song Worthiness
Posted: 16 Feb 2004 10:25 PM |
Macha wandered aimlessly along the path. They had told her this way was safe, so she thought she'd explore. Maybe she'd find an Inn other than the Four Winds. It was nice enough, but...Well, truth be known, since her first night she hadn't met anyone there. And she was lonely. Lonely enough for the company of friends.
She blushed, thinking of the other. Romance...no, she'd put that away for another time. It seemed every time she met a man, he ran the other way. At home, it had been her voice, and her penchant for putting all of her experiences into song. She blushed again...some things, she had been told, should not be put into song for all to hear.
At any rate, she had heard there were some good Inns to explore. She wasn't quite ready to brave the Port itself, or Midor..Aros, no, not a city the size of Midor. So...Paws it was. She had been told it was small, isolated, and most importantly, it lacked a bard to call it's own. So, here she was. She paused outside the door, adjusting her dusty dress. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the door...
"Hello." A melodious voice, unmistakably that of an elven woman, rang behind her. Involuntarily, she flinched. Here we go, she thought.
"Greetings." She bowed to the blonde, vibrant woman before her. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm Macha Sparrowsong."
"Greetings, Macha. I am Elvalia.." Macha eyes grew large, and the elf stopped short.
"Elvalia? The Elvalia from the tales?" She forgot all about the possibility of rejection, and took a step forward. "That Elvalia?"
"The tales? They tell tales about me?" Elvalia blushed, and looked nonplussed.
"Well...I think so. Do you have a sister?"
"Yes..."
"A sister who looks like you?"
"Yes. Where are they telling tales about me?"
"Oh, around." Macha waved her hand, eager to get back to the important part of the conversation.
"What are they saying?" Elvalias voice raised a bit. Macha thought she sounded a bit like she was panicking.
"Well...that you are chosen of Aros, they speak of your beauty, they say that your sister and you were brought back together for a divine purpose." Macha waved her hand again. "It's mostly just bits I've heard, but I suppose I took a liberty of adding it together." She looked a little embarrassed at that, but rushed on headlong. "It would make a wonderful song, heroic, romantic..."
"Uh...well...where did you say you heard these tales?" Elvalia asked again, looking a bit overwhelmed. "A song, you say? About me?"
"Yes, yes...It would be fantastic! Just perfect...they will sing it for generations!" Macha waved her arms dramatically, than stopped as she noticed the woman's face drain completely of color.
"Perhaps we should go inside and sit down." Elvalia said. "And you can tell me a bit more..." |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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The beginning
Posted: 13 May 2004 09:57 PM |
The young girl look up at her father, “Are we really going to see fireworks tonight?”
The old elf looked down at his daughter. “The mayor and I met with the gnomish merchant just yesterday. He smiled as she hopped around excitedly. “We purchased enough fireworks to last until next Solstice Eve.” She still very young, having not yet reached her adolescence, and so still retains much of her youthful naivety. He secretly hoped that she would never grow up. She was a great joy to him and her mother, though he seldom had time for her, his duties on the Village Council being what they were. Her kind heart and inquisitive nature so endeared her to his heart that he seldom thought of her as a stepdaughter. Rather, she was as close to his own blood as any daughter by blood.
By now she was already at the window, humming a tune to a bird perched on the nearby tree. Her red hair twirled wildly as she swayed her head back in forth with the tune. The bird cocked its head and stared at her as if trying to decipher this strange, new language. Having had enough, the bird chirped twice and flew away. The girl fell over laughing.
“Lainia,” said her father, “come here.” The little girl stopped laughing and dutifully approached her father. “I want you to behave at the Solstice Eve festival tonight, Lainia. Do you understand what I mean?”
Lainia nodded. Her father sighed, “No, little girl, I do not think you do. The mayor and the entire Village Council will be there. You are not to run around wildly. Do not break anything if you can help. And please, Lainia, listen to your mother. She so wants to show you off as the proper young lady tonight.”
Lainia scowled, “I don’t wanna be the proper young lady,” she pouted.
“Want,” corrected her father.
She looked at him blankly. “The word is ‘want,’ not ‘wanna.’” He sighed, “Just try to behave this time, I don’t want a repeat of last year. Okay?”
“Okay father,” she sighed dejectedly.
He smiled at her, “So are you going to sing to any boys at the Solstice festival tomorrow?”
She blinked in surprise. “What would I wanna…” he looked at her meaningfully, “…I mean want to do that?” Only older girls sang to boys at the Solstice festival, and usually when that happened it meant that they loved each other. Lainia could not imagine why they would ever want to do that. Boys were icky, especially the boy Devian. He liked to pull Lainia’s curly red hair and laugh when she would cry.
“I just thought that a pretty young girl like yourself would have the boys begging that you sing to them.” Her father looked into the mirror and straightened his suit. The festival was close, and as a member of the Council he would have to be dressed in his best.
Lainia looked up at her father. “I’m never gonna sing to boys,” she stated.
“Going,” said her father simply. “You are never going to sing to boys.”
“Yes father,” she sighed again.
“Run along now, Lainia. Your father must finish preparing for the festival.”
Several years later, the little girl with red curls and freckles had blossomed into a beautiful young elf. As her father had predicted, the boys had been asking her to sing ever since the snows came and people began thinking about the Solstice Festival. But she only had thoughts for one boy.
Devian had been mean to her in the past, but now, instead of the mean little boy that used to pull her curls, she saw only the handsome elf he was turning into. They were still young, not yet to the age of accountability, but old enough to know the stirring that all young people eventually find. The festival was that evening, and Lainia remembered her conversation with Devian.
“So, Lainia, I have something to ask you.” Devian looked nervous, which was very unlike the confident young elf Lainia had come to know. He had been acting strangely the whole day, which gave her another indication that something was amiss.
She treated him to a smile, “Come on, Devian. You’ve known me for far to long. Just ask already.”
He cleared his throat, “Lainia, will you sing to me this Solstice time?”
She blushed. Though she had expected him to ask, he was still the first boy to ever ask to hear her sing. Lainia new she had a good voice; she sang almost as much as she talked. She would sing to the animals and plants around the village, for the old ladies that would gather for gossip and sowing, but never for a boy.
She looked down, trying to hide her face, “Of course I will sing for you, Devian.”
The smile on his face was so brilliant one would have thought Devian had been named king of all the elves. “Lainia..I have always loved hearing you sing. You are Macha."
Her odd look gave him pause. “Macha is from the old tongue. It means beautiful sound. My mother told me about it once. She knows the old tongue, you know.”
“Yes, Devian, I know that.” She was still smiling. Macha … she liked the sound of it.
Macha. Macha…
Devian leaned forward and kissed her, “Then from now on, you can be my Macha.” He never again called her Lainia. From that day forward, Devian would only call her Macha.
((thank you Mykal )) |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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Re: The beginning
Posted: 13 May 2004 10:57 PM |
| A gift is a gift, my friend. |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The beginning
Posted: 13 May 2004 11:01 PM |
"Lainia" Devian paused outside the gates to Queen Aquina's palace, looking past the fountains to where Macha was walking purposefully toward the entrance. Her head came up quickly, her body turning to follow as her gaze went back over her shoulder toward him. A slow smile spread across her face.
"Oh! Hello, Devian." The smile changed to uncertainty as his expression didn't falter, gazing at her with only concern in his eyes. He looked past her at the palace, then back to her.
"I don't know how you live in this city. It's so huge, I fear I have almost gotten lost several times." A frown formed on his face as the busy voices seemed to swell behind him as if reinforcing his claim.
"Oh, I don't really live here, Devian. I live in Icy Vale, near Midor." Macha closed the distance between them, maintaining her smile while searching his face for signs of the boy she once knew. He seemed so serious...so...well, grown up. A man of her village.
"Icy Vale? Close to Midor? Is this a town of humans, as I suspect?" A frown formed across his handsome features, and his gaze grew more concerned on her face.
"Well, it is not so close, though closer than this. And there are humans there, yes..." Her voice faltered slightly, and she fought to keep a smile - however slight - on her lips. A man of her village, indeed.
"Oh, Lainia...you should come home now!" A hint of emotion crept into his voice, and for a moment she saw pleading in his eyes before they were covered again with the sternness she was beginning to grow accustomed to seeing. "You're mother is waiting for you. She worries so. And I..." He paused for a moment, looking down and then shaking his head before going on brusquely. "Well, what I wish is unimportant now."
"I am fine here, Devian. You can see that I am well." She fought to keep her voice even as she looked at him. She had never suspected this...that she would see him again, let alone that he would come for her. And now...well, it hardly mattered now.
"No, you are not well. I can see that from even the few moments we have been together!" A hint of passion entered his voice, the calmness melting away in his speech. He looked tempted to reach out and shake her. "How much of what you were do you still possess, Lainia? Or have you shed your former self so completely that even I should call you Macha now?"
"All that I am, and all that I shall be is still here, Devian. But I have grown in many ways, it is true." She kept her voice cool, her eyes betraying only a hint of emotion. She'd be damned if she'd get into the ways she'd changed with him now. As if he could understand it...her eyes skimmed over him appraisingly. "And you are different as well. It is the way of the cycle, that people grow and change."
"I am different, yes." His voice calmed a bit, and he looked into her face a moment. "Do you still sing to the birds, Lainia? Like you did when you were young?"
She smiled at that, caught unexpectedly by the tenderness in his voice. "I do. I sing to anything that will listen, still."
"I have missed your voice." He sounded almost wistful. They both stood for a moment, each of them gazing into the fountain beside them as if afraid to look at one another. Finally, she broke the uneasy silence that had fallen over them.
"I missed many things of home. But I did not think I was welcome there, anymore." She snuck a glance in his direction, her voice gentle. "And so, I have made my own place.
"You fled too quickly, Lainia." He paused a moment, looking at her steadily. "Tempers flared, as they can do. Even with our kind."
"Did I? It seemed timely to me then." Her words overlapped the first of his, and she looked at the ground a moment under his eyes. The last words caught her square, and her eyes widened a bit. "Indeed."
"The village welcomes you back, Lainia. You need only say the word, and you may come home." He spoke the words gently, cajolingly, and her heart jumped at them. Words she had never thought to hear.
She waited a moment, not trusting her voice to speak, or her eyes to look into his. Taking a deep breath, finally she spoke, still looking at the inlaid stone at her feet. "My friends...they are concerned for me. They fear something bad will happen, should I go home."
"Perhaps then, I should meet your friends. I could put their minds at ease." He looked her over and she finally looked up, meeting his gaze with her own. "Truly, there is no danger to you. But you are fortunate to have friends that...care for you so much." He paused again, evaluating her with his eyes. "I wonder, however, how closely your friends follow the path of Elbereth. The old ways."
"Bronwyn is a follower of Elbereth. Some of the others follow their own ways, but all is respected." She looked back up at him, asking quickly, "How have you been, Devian?"
"Good, then at least she should understand." Devian nodded his head, then looked up at her with seeming surprise at her question. "I have been...well, Lainia." He looked consideringly at her for a moment, then spoke again carefully. "Father died."
"Oh?" She frowned slightly and her hand came out a bit from her side as if to touch his arm, then stopped. "I am sorry to hear that, Devian."
"He was old of course, but it pained me." He shrugged slightly, looking away from her. "I suppose it still pains me."
"Death is painful to those of us left behind, though it is a natural part of the cycle. I am sorry for your loss."
"Yes, the cycle." He sighed slightly and did not look at her still. "The cycle has also brought me into my father's position on the council."
"So you are here in an official capacity then?" Macha spoke quickly, glancing back up at him sharply.
"I..." He paused for a moment, still not looking at her, before returning his eyes to her and speaking more confidently. "I am here for you, Lainia. No matter what others say."
"What others say? And what do others say, Devian?" Her voice tinged with anger, and her eyes flashed slightly. Four years, and still they gossiped? Was she a fool to think she could go back?
Devian looked away from her once more, not answering the fire in her voice. After a moment, he spoke softly. "They wish you to return home for your father's ceremony. Our time is short. Your mother asked me to tell you..that she wants you to return home."
"I received her letter. I understand she feels she needs my help in this. Though in truth, I'm not sure what I can do." Macha spoke crisply, anger fading to coolness in her voice. "And though the thought of returning home is joyful, it is also frightening, Devian."
"You are her daughter, Lainia. Simply being present will help her through her grief." His voice softened further as he looked at her. He, too, looked as if he wanted to reach out to her, and yet he held himself back. "And yours. Lainia....I will be with you. Can you trust me, as you have before?"
Macha looked at him, her eyes haunted slightly as the question burned in his. Trust...could she trust him?
"Lainia..." He watched her, waiting, then spoke again. "I am still Devian, remember? Remember what we shared together? If you cannot trust me...."
"This is another time, Devian." She spoke finally, her voice tinged with sadness. "And much has happened between then and now. I do not say I cannot trust you...but as you said yourself, we are different each of us."
"Some things, my macha, do not change that quickly." He took a small step forward, his eyes pleading with her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She watched him a moment, emotions dancing across her face to match his, finally nodding slightly. Regret crossed her face as she spoke once more.
"Some things do not. Other things change more quickly, even."
He watched her face a moment more, expression fading out of his slowly. Removing his hands from her shoulders, he took a small step backward. "I see."
"Do you trust me, Devian?" Macha watched him carefully, her voice carrying the sadness she felt.
"Implicitly, Lainia." He watched her steadily, eyes taking in her face. "I know what we have shared. And I know that has not ended. Not totally, at least."
"No, it has not. I care for you, Devian, but much has happened since I have gone."
"You have..found another?" A pained look crossed through his face, and his eyes looked down quickly. "I should have expected this. In fact, I did. But still...."
She nodded slowly, watching his face. "Many things have happened. That is one of them."
"Does he follow the cycle? Is he a believer?"
Macha sighed, looking down then into his face. "He is a human man, Devian. A monk of Asashi." She flinched as he looked down, his eyes widening.
"A monk? A human!" He turned away from her, head shaking. "I knew that life amongst the humans had changed you, Lainia. But I had not expected this."
"Indeed?" Her eyes flashed again, and she took a step toward him. "What was it that you expected, Devian?"
"It does not matter what I expected. Just not this." The coldness of his voice cut through her. "You were always rash, Lainia."
"Well, tempers do flare, Devian. Even among our kind." She lashed out, her anger flashing across her face. She turned slightly away, her hands balling at her sides.
"You think I am angry, Lainia?" The contempt in his voice was tinged slightly with disbelief. "If you do, then you are sorely mistaken."
"I have learned many things here. One of which is that people are people, whatever their race." She spit the words challengingly at him, her head turned towards his back as her face flushed.
"Then you have forgotten yourself, Lainia." His voice lost some of it's heat in the face of hers, and resignation came across his fine features. "I am foolish to think that I would be so difficult to replace."
Macha blinked, startled at his words. Confusion replaced the anger in her tone. "People are not replaceable."
"But it seems your passions still rule your judgement." He continued, as if oblivious to her words. "Some things never change, it seems. A lesson I will keep close to my heart. Good night, Lainia. I will meet with your friends tomorrow, should you so desire. I am in the Broken Mask Inn. You know where to find me."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he had already walked away. |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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The Shell
Posted: 15 Jun 2004 06:50 PM |
Face down in the pillow, a small groan escaped dry lips as consciousness reared it's head in the world of the bard. Turning over just enough to reach out an arm and pull the comforter up further, covering the head of curls made wild from days of not brushing, she felt the hard curve of the instrument she had fallen asleep strumming too many days to count. The strings were loose, she knew it, and in more coherent times it was inconceivable that the instrument would be treated so poorly as to be lying about where harm could come to it.
A long-fingered hand reached out slowly, tenatively, then drew back as the head lay into the pillow once more. Both hands gripped the blanket, pulling it up as far as it would go, coccooning her in the warmth and comfort of forgetfulness. Turning over the opposite way, she scooted farther from the lyre in a trivial effort not to knock it from the bedclothes accidentally. It wasn't Shinann, her lyre...but it was still an instrument. Shinann was gone...
Get out of bed...she chided herself mentally, a deep sigh rushing out. Sitting up and drawing the covers around her shoulders, her brown eyes blearily surveyed her room in Icy Vale. Thoughts of action raced through her mind...Do something! it shouted. Take action, move! Suspended motion held her still in the warm nest of her complacency, escape and weakness, action and strength battled within her.
Lips parted, snippets of events and memories skipped through her mind like small movies. She dismissed each as quickly as they came, drawing her legs up to cradle with her arms, head tucked into the covers. Forehead wrinkled, her eyes closed tighter with each thought, each emotion that accompanied it. Events arrayed themselves into neat words in her mind, poetry and song fighting to get out - but the emotions still overwhelmed her and she drew herself into a tighter ball, surrendering to it until at last she fell once again into a langorous sleep. |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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A Leaf on the Wind
Posted: 15 Jun 2004 09:22 PM |
The sound of rain falling in sheets permeated the thick wall of sleep, and the deep brown eyes fluttered open once more. Slowly, they took in the surroundings, shaking the last vestige of haze from the weary mind. Reaching out to draw the lyre on the other side of the bed toward her, eyes still wandering the room, she came back empty handed with only well-worn cloth found in her fist. Blinking sleepily, her eyes turned toward the space the lyre had occupied when she last saw it...a few minutes ago? hours? days? Nothing there, she began blearily pushing the bedclothes aside, searching metodically with half-lidded eyes, until a splinter of wood on the floor caught her eye.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she leaned forward, examining the remains of the instrument scattered over the floor. The curvature was still in place, a deep crack running through the grain showing a stark patch of white wood-flesh through the burnished surface. The straight spine was shattered, splinters of wood scattered like drops of blood over the boards of her floor. Strings lay like small bright snakes across the ruined craftmanship of the lyre, mocking the destruction or mourning it, or perhaps both in turns.
Eyes unclear, she gazed on the destruction dispassionately, curiously. It came to her that the instrument, fluid looking and almost supple in it's appearance, had been too rigid to absorb the impact upon hitting the floor. Beauty, held stiffly in one form, unable to sustain the brief abrupt shock of impact. Reaching down, she grasped the ruined object in her hands and pulled as much of it as she could hold into her lap, examining it closely. Wood...like a tree.
Her thoughts wandered to the trees of Icy Vale as her hand wandered over the lost music laying in her lap. Freezing cold, ice and snow, still the trees stood. As the harp had looked fluid, harmonious, the trees stood rigidly straight and proud. Yet...still they survived, survived through the wind and the rain, the snow and the wildness, the civilization of races all around them. The wind...in her minds eye, she saw the trees blowing in the wind, snow pelting down on them, swaying, moving, lost in the supple dance of survival. She saw the trees on the plains, full leaf dancing the breeze. Whatever they were dealt, swaying, dancing...she could hear the leaves joyfully singing as they danced their way on the wind, falling softly to the ground to nurture seedlings to life.
Soft, supple grass greeted their turning, bending under foot to spring back again. Defiance? Joy? Survival....The dance of life, the cycle come to bear. Was the stream unhappy when the rains didn't come and it dried up? Did the saplings cry out at the unfairness of it when no one came to cut the larger trees that guarded the sun and the rain jealously for their own? A leaf on the wind, moving, changing with the current of the skies.
A leaf on the wind.... |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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Meditation
Posted: 17 Jun 2004 10:47 PM |
Macha sat silently under a tree in Buckshire, her back bolstered by it's sturdiness. Her gaze fled out over the grass, seeming to watch the water tumultuosly rampaging it's way into the small stream that fell down over the cliff. There were times that she had felt like that water, rushing to meet fate, crashing over whatever lay in her path heedless of obstacles. There were times....but now she was still.
Her hands caressed the worn parchment they held, thinking silently about the words held within. A different time, a different place...and she had been different, then too. Was she different enough, now? Leaning her head back against her tree, she looked up into the strong branches, swaying in the breeze.
She sat and tried to remember who she had been, before bitterness and grief laid claim to her soul and stole her away. Closing her eyes, she sought rememberence, not of wrong action and regret, but of pure emotion and surrender. Sitting quietly, she tried to retrieve fragments of the girl she once was, who loved and trusted with a full heart. Opening her eyes, she sang out to the wind, echoing the birds that nested in the branches above her. |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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Seclusion
Posted: 27 Jul 2004 01:33 PM |
The wood of the building felt rough, her hair dragging past it and catching against it as she rolled her head slightly back and forth. She sat, knees drawn up to her chest as the gentle breeze blew across her face. Looking out into the distance, she watched the trees wave softly and listened to the burbling of the water. It was peaceful, and her heart was soothed by the sights and sounds of the sacred place.
Alone...she was beginning to get used to it. Once, she thought that it would be the worst thing that could happen. Thinking back, she couldn't trace exactly when it had happened, and when she had stopped accepting it. They weren't coming back, not any of them. However they were gone, they were gone. Blanche had been right...she had never grieved for any of them, for the loss of their company or their love. She had held them tight in her heart, refusing to believe that they would leave forever, holding tightly to the possibility that they might come back some way, somehow.
She had realized it that day at her tree in Buckshire. The day that it was made clear to her that her hope was not what she thought it was, that it would never be possible for him to come back to her. No matter how strongly either of them had felt, how strongly she still felt, love would not conquer death. Trying to pretend it would only resulted in pain...and maybe worse. That day, in the presence of Kree and Elvalia, she tried to hold on to herself, to her heart. When they left, though...when they left she had felt something break inside of her.
Something irretrievable had been taken with the death of Mykal, with the disappearance of Sinjin, with the stream of death and despair that had followed her like a cloud as she clung desperately to her belief in good and evil. She had tried so hard to keep on believing, to have a purpose and a faith. She knew now...she knew it was all a facade, a way to shield herself from the knowledge that they were gone. They would never return...and finally, she gave in to grief and let herself know that they were never coming back. They existed now only in her heart, in her memories and the stories and songs, the places and events, that reminded her of them in every step she took.
She took refuge in the small cabin in the secret forest. It was rarely sought out, someplace she knew she could be alone. And now...now the tears were gone, and though the ache in her heart lingered she began to feel restless. She began to think of all of her friends that remained, the people that held places in her heart, that cared about her as she cared for them. Some of them were gone...yet some of them remained.
Standing and stretching, she wandered into the house. Changing her clothes, she gathered her possessions and carefully put them in her pack, lying her lyre on the top gently. At the door, she stopped and turned around, looking around the room and past it to someplace she could only see in her heart.
"Goodbye" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears and a slight smile stealing across her face. Turning finally, she hefted the pack higher on her shoulder and walked out. |
Trishy
Macha Sparrowsong - Song is my life
Coretta Alandar - Cleric of Midoran
Dekla Debena - whatever
Not all people who wander are lost.
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