Reflecting on the Waves
Log Info
- Title: Reflecting on the Waves
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Sabina, Irshya, Faranmidahn
- Place: A08: Northern Banks of the Tornmawr
- Time: Tuesday, June 30, 2020, 10:55 AM
- Summary: Cryosanthia is sitting on a rock of the bay, wasting time and reflecting over the events that have shaped her. The dominant ones of course being her experiences as Salina's Beloved Pet. She wonders if it was worth it, while she plays with her two Icicle Daggers. She throws the glacial ice one into the water, it is thrown back, by a sith, who might be one of the prisoners she was with in Charnath. He vanishes but she speaks her thoughts aloud, in case he's listening. She throws her dagger a second time, Irshya swims up, having retrieved it, blessing her and wishing the sith woman not to harm herself. Cryo assures her that is not her intention, she is trying to free herself of thoughts. Faranmidahn arrives, spinning a web as a spider-kobold, and the conversation turns to candied crickets before heading back to Cryo's musings. She talks about how she felt, about fleeing, being a prisoner, discovering it was all a dream of a child-goddess with very real implications, about decisions and What Ifs. Her friends remind her of the need to move on, the connections she's made. It's enough to take her mind off things, and she returns to timelessly reflecting on the waves.
-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A08: Northern Banks of the Tornmawr *>--=--=--=--=--=--=-
In the shadow of the great Highbridge, and beneath the guardhouses, a stretch of river has been laid out as a public park and fishing area. Here, the descending landscape of Alexandria folds into the river and crafts a comfortable view. On a typical day, a number of small boats and picnic blankets dot the landscape. To the side, a small shrine to Rada the River Serpent, as well as a dual shrine to Althea and Daeus, in their guise as Mother and Father of the world.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 267 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Sabina 5'4" 130 Lb Human Female Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes Irshya 3'0" 35 Lb Goblin Female A small, blue-skinned Goblin in sea-green robes. Faranmidahn 3'3" 35 Lb Halfling Female Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-= As a Spectator -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Was it worth it?
The morning after, everyone who was infected with the plague woke up, cured. Slowly but surely, over the next few months, the blackness and twisting of the land fades. Those who were more harshly affected by the plague will find that those afflictions will fade as well.
The circle beneath Alexandria is filled in. There is no sign of Eclavdran in Alexandria. Workers report after a few ventures that it is now reasonably safe to venture into the sewers. As for Silvermoon, it reopens approximately six months later. They were hit harder than Alexandria, but recover.
It is a victory. Life goes on, for some. For most, it becomes a fading memory, and the pain along with it.
For a certain white-scaled sith-makar, there is a lot more to get over, and so the question comes back to her, again and again. Cryosanthia sits on a rock on the banks of the Tornmawr. Her legs dangle with her toes in the water, her tail draped over the opposite side. She wears her mail shirt and her AnyGarment sleeves, although they are off now. Sometimes it's not worth thinking about clothing. Her gloves are off, tucked away in her haversack. She still carries everything she owns with her all the time, just in case.
The mark returned, after a while, after a fashion. One day she woke up and noticed the pattern of scales on her left hand had changed into a stylized Dragon-Eye. Her own mark, her Arcane Mark, an eye formed by her name, Cryo, written in sildanyari script. It glows whenever she casts spells, matches the mark she has on the backs of her gloves. She wasn't sure what to think of it, but now she is always watching herself, especially when she casts.
In her large, scaley hands she holds two nearly identical daggers. A clear glacial icicle dagger in her right, and a cold iron icicle dagger in her left. Their shapes match perfectly, one the pattern for the other, wavy and rippled, a round spiral sharpening to edges with an ice ball shaped guard. They both have a sheen of enchantment to them, both are tied to her soul, a legacy of memories.
They rest on her palms, pointing out towards the river. With a flick of a finger she spins the dagger in her right, so the point is facing her, another flick, and so does the left. Sometimes the desire to grip them tight and plunge them in both grows strong. She doesn't.
They represent freedom, but not that kind.
The dagger in her right, glacial ice, was her first strong spell. It was the dagger she used to kill her first Mistress and escape from Charnath. It helped her take back many of the things she lost there. She gives it another flick, and it points out towards the river again. Was it worth it? She squeezes the grip, then slowly relaxes, then throws, flinging it out over the water. It arcs away from her.
The dagger in her left, cold iron, was made to kill Salina. The symbolism was not lost on the sith. She choose its form deliberately. She gives it a flick, it spins and points out across the water. She carried it in her haversack, ready to use, the same way Mikilos carried Mortal Dread. She had little expectation of success, but she had to try, to take back some of what she lost in the Tower. Except, when the moment came, it would not serve for that, Justice in the Light. Her second Mistress truly was a Mistake, and killing her would have been too. So the expensive weapon remains, asking in perhaps even a more practical way, was it worth it? She squeezes the grip, then slowly relaxes. She doesn't throw this, it's harder to get back.
The dagger glitters as it spins out over the water. A brief moment like a diamond rising up. Then more like a speeding hailstone as it decends and strikes the water witha splash. A few more moments of rippled silence and the dagger's hilt breaks the surface and stays there.
Slowly the icey form glides through the water and once a short distance from the river bank a silvery hand raises up from the waters with the dagger blade in it's grasp and tosses it lightly to fall sticking in the mud a arms reach away.
Cryo blinks away from her thoughts, looking first at her dagger in the mud then out at the water, where she saw a flash of silver. A short lean, and she pulls it free, still watching, "Thanks? Hello?"
A silvery scalled head pokes up from the water. Teeth set in a grin that might scare children. At the distance from shore his features are hard to make out other then the grin because of it's size. "Always toss weapons or worth at swimers? Disgusted with fine workmanship? Perhaps bemoaning it was not silver." A laugh comes over the water. "There are better thinsg to do and you can do them. You still have legs, you know." The silvery figure rises up partly from the water and splashes over to one side and down. The very briefest glimpse of a partial leg and a strong tail and the silvery sith is out of sight in the water once more.
"Yauhuiy? Yauhhitlhuitztli? Is that you?" Cryosanthia jumps to her feet, standing on her rock and staring out across the water. She grins in wide surprise, "You got out? Looks like your legs are still holding place in line with the Death Singing Dragon, should I call you Bob instead? It was Bob if you're swimming, right?"
She waits, watching the ripples, the waves heading in towards the shore, looking for a flash of scales beneath them. Now there are more questions unanswered, but this one is easier.
"I didn't see you there, and it comes back, even without people throwing it back."
Which has happened...
"Watch." She puts the icicle dagger in her belt.
The fingers of her right hand flicker, and it waves in a graceful gesture. As always, the magic starts in her heart, at her core. The highlight scales on her chest flicker with a pattern of light, then trace out along her arm like a wind blowing snow flurries across a plain. It coalesces in her fingers, and then the icicle dagger appears again, forming out of her will and essence. Identical to the other, both others. The one in her belt melts away, she is back to having one glacial ice, and one cold iron, icicle shaped daggers.
"I was thinking about things, if you could listen. I want to know how you got free and how you've been, just... I need to speak to get the thoughts out." Cryo calls out across the water. There is no response, but it does take her back to talking in her cell to either Yahuiy or Zeke. Rambling as a prisoner to an unresponsive audience that had no choice but to be there.
"It was all a dream." Cryo says, "It wasn't my dream, any of ours. It was Hers. She dreamt it and we lived it. Everything does make sense in a dream logic kind of way. And we won, we stopped her causing problems, and she didn't have to die. That's good isn't it? Everyone got better, except us."
"Seldan is gone, and a lot of people died, during it and to end it. My cihuaa left me, and my foundling was murdered, and I suffered a lot. A lot of painful things. And grew older washing the same three Tower floors. That's me, the Musty Draconian Maid. It didn't feel really heroic. Some things moved because of me I guess. All of those things I had because of Her, and lost because of Her. Not entirely, I had some agency in there, but it's hard to find."
"So, nothing to nothing with a bump in the middle. That's life right?" She watches the waves, looking for anything. "It's Ok, you don't have to answer."
The waters continue to lap at the shore. She watches, pulls her arm back, throws the glacial ice dagger again, calling hopefully, "Catch? Don't make me throw the iron one, it's super expensive!"
She chuffs an exhale, "I still don't know how to feel. She was a large part of my life. I kept hoping to find something in her, and when we freed her I was hoping that would be when. Except, it wasn't. It was hard for me to hate her, she got into my head with all the pet stuff. I still wanted to stab her, but then it all sort of melted away. Except that frustration, having to stab something, that's still there."
The dagger plops into the water and is lost. She monitors the spot, in case a hand appears again, then sits down when one doesn't. Puts her toes in the water again. "The Tower turned into a strength for me, nothing much bothers me anymore. When it does I pull back into it and its ok. Its made me a little colder, I think, seeing all the regular people get back to their lives when we didn't. That's why we're heroes, right? Someone has to."
"Someone has to do the research, someone has to carry the spears, someone has to witness, someone has to just show up. And someone has to win the day. And it was us... but..."
Was it worth it?
The white sith looks down at her hands, one empty, one with a dagger. She spins the cold iron so it's pointing at herself again.
A small fin crests the water nearby, followed by another point, which is most certainly a tail. A small form darts about in the water, and suddenly turns towards the small splash made by the falling dagger. The small form, blue in colour with a flowing shock of deep green scoots downstream, and then slowly moves back towards Cryosanthia.
She rises up out of the water as it gets too shallow for her to swim. The Gobbo, who bears gills upon her neck, a small fin, and a short, stubby tail. She looks to Cryo curiously, at the dagger in her hand. "Irshya brings Rada's blessings. Rada loves you. And wishes for you to not harm yourself."
"Oh hey Irshya," Cryo says, smiling. It's a weak smile, in the lack of teeth showing and the lack of effort to hide them. Not a smile that's meant to be effective. The white sith closes her eyes in a slow blink, showing off pale blue eyelids that match the colour of the ice in the dagger. She shakes her head, "Thanks Irshya, and Rada, and I'm not going to. Not with these."
She holds out her empty right hand, "I went in there hoping to find a good way to die, something with meaning, and there were only stupid ways. I think the most I did was hand out Candied Crickets. You want one? They're sweet and then they're bitter, and they have a great crunch. If you ate bugs as a youngling you'd love them."
Irshya slowly moves forward, towards Cryosanthia. If allowed, the Gobbo will slowly pull Cryo's hand away, so that the dagger is not pointed towards her. The Gobbo then attempts a hug.
"Irshya no know what bugs are. Irshya ate fish. And crabs. And squid. Still does, but does like rabbit." She looks up at Cryosanthia. "Irshya can feel that the lady is sad. Also offers that it is not death that gives meaning, but life and how it was lived."
"Did you really want to die, though, Cryo?" asks an overhead voice that is familiar, if the form is not.
A small sithlike creature of pebbled, pinkish white scales, shrouded in long trains of thin silk that blend into the misty spiderweb that vaults against gravity, above them. The bloom of a large purple rose dominates it's chest, petals shimering in random turns as the creature blinks several sets of earnest rose eyes, "Or were you just lashing out?" Another silk shrouded limb lifts, bound in tethering sheets to the supporting lattice, to wave toward the whitescale's other visitor as the figment opens her mouth in a fond, reptilian sort of smile, "Hi!"
The white sith lets her hand be drawn away, and accepts the hug. She is not warm; if she was room temperature the hug would be, as it is she's cool and the embrace is firm. For an aquatic, is likely feels fine, like hugging another of the deep. "Bugs are like land crabs, but smaller and softer shells. Or Prawn."
Cryo looks up, hearing a voice, her weak smile turning into a real one, "Hey scale-sithter-spider. When Zeke said I didn't know what love is, that I'm Endless Need like She was Endless Winter. Well I didn't want to keep thinking what I started thinking then. I felt pretty damn low."
She exhales, "So he's not in my life anymore. He's still at the Temple, if I want to see him. I think I love him, that it was more than just eighty years of being locked together, that we would have grown together without her. Except we didn't have the chance."
"It's not the end of the world. Heh! I mean, it kind was going to be. It's not the end of my life. I'll do other things. First act really. Rocky start, then fell off a cliff and hit every unhappy tree all the way to the bottom. I'll be Ok, I've got friends." Cryo says, then hums, "I got connections! A child-god-queen that had me in her dreams for like, forever, that counts for something right?"
"And thanks. It just means I want to escape. My first century I spent most of it fleeing or trapped, with some growing up at the beginning, and at the end. My second, I'd like it to be better, just not sure how to get there. The daggers are a part of me, like the scars, like the memories, like the cold. A little more visible. That's all."
The Goblin seems unbothered by the coolness of Cryo, in contrast, Irshya is quite warm. And seems content to wiggle into Cryosanthia's lap and settle, like a living little stuffed animal. "Sometimes life like that. Rocky start. Question is. Not what is Cryocryo escaping from. What is she escaping to?"
Irshya's eyes widen at the sudden appearance of the small, Sith-like creatures, the rose stared at until the being says hello. The Gobbo shrinks a little in the Sith's lap. "Hello?"
Cryo rubs the gobbo-sharks head, "From wizards in Charn, then vampires, then a Fae Queen and an Arch Demon Duke. Those are what I'm escaping from. Ice dagger is Charn, Iron Dagger is everything else, I'll have to get a third for 'escaping to'."
The little webbed creature watches the goblin settle into the sith's lap, "I'm not going to hurt you, silly!" it replies in a light tone, then lifts it's snout to regard Cryo on her reply. The eyes blink, the petals of the rose continuing their own pattern, then, "What ifs can tie your heart down, keep you from reaching brighter fields, if you give them that power."
Irshya blinks at the webbed creature, and sticks out her tongue, which is blue and split at the tip. She looks to Cryosanthia then, her face looking sad. "Nice lady has so many things chasing her. Not always good to be popular. Is as the little spinner says, what ifs are trap." She cuddles more into the Sith's midsection, pausing to pull at the stretchy swimsuit over her frame. She grins at the air bubble that gets trapped, and pokes at it with a wee claw.
Cryo reaches into her haversack and pulls out a small wrapped treat. She tosses it upwards, at Faran's web, "Candied Cricket, pretend it jumped in." It hits a strand and sticks.
"Sometimes they set you free. When I couldn't remember the Tower, there were all sorts of possibilities. I had made friends with her, was trusted, respected, endured great suffering also, had found great secrets and ways of hiding them from her. I would be her undoing. As the What Ifs turned into What Wases, it got more and more pathetic, in the true pathos sense. I turned from enduring on my own to being held together by Zeke, so lonely and estranged I pretended to be a mother. Was a neglected thing, not a super spy. With an awful lot of horror and pain and little that came of it."
She watches Irshya chase the bubble around her bathing suit, pushes at it with her own thick nail. "It's not so much What Ifs now as building material. The Tower isn't going away. I need it to turn from Prison to Fortress. Like Angoron, the Mountain. Let it make me strong so others break themselves on me."
"So, not What If. More, What Now? If that makes sense."
The little spider/kobold.... being strains a little agaisnt the silk to reach the little delight, but manages to pluck it from the web proper without issue to pop it into her mouth, "Thank you, sister!" She scoots a little closer, then, out comes the tongue back at the goblin, followed by a little giggle. Her attention returns to Cryo, then, "You had goals beyond Her, you remember? Friends and allies who will be there for you."
"How did cricket become candied? Are there cricket hunters?", the Gobbo wonders. "And Irshya not sure what Cryocryo means. Was she stuck, imprisoned, before? Or is she now?" The air bubble is moved along until it vanishes, presumably trapped where one would guess the Gobbo's bellybutton would be. "And who was the 'she' that Cryocryo spoke of?"
"There are, someone must pick them out of the bushes." The white sith says, brushing at Irshya's head again, "Then they are dropped in a pot of sugar syrup and somehow it gets hard. I buy them at the market."
She sighs and looks out across the water, "I was in a White Tower for a very long time. I'm free now, but it's still there in my mind. Memories. They aren't raw, they have the dust of time, but they will always be an infuence. I thought I had lost all my friends. Azog, orcs rarely live beyond forty, he would be doubly dead. You Faran, Ezil, Seldan, all the Fernwood staff, dead or horribly aged. Kaeryn might still be young-ish. Mikilos would be the same. Then, it wasn't. I stepped back into my old life but it didn't fit right, like my old armour."
She grins a little, "I'll have to find those goals, polish them off, and I am glad to have my friends still. Do not doubt Faran, you have held me together more than most. I love you. I want you to be well. I want to help you, anything, just ask, let me know 'How are you doing?' and 'What do you need?'."
"You kept me going, sister." Faranmi-bold replies gently, "You also saved distant kinsfolk..." and she lifts her shrouded hands, together at first, but parting them some inches to show the links of a silken chain draping in a shallow arc between her wrists, "Do you remember?" and she tugs the bindings taut with the somewhat incongruous sound of metal links scraping against each other. She stoops a little closer within the limits of her tethers, bringing the folds of her sleeves(?) together, then rolling them at the wrist to cradle a small, grey scale between almost formless hands, "River Stone has a chance at a full life now... because you still held true to your heart, even after everything."
"Irshya hear of this lady of the tower. You were trapped by her? She did bad things to you?" The Goblin hugs Cryo once more, not letting go for some time. She looks up then, to the little spinner. "Irshya thinks it nice to meet you, Faran."
The Gobbo appears to enjoy the touches to her head, pressing against the Sith's hand. "Irshya understand a little now. Like going away for some time, coming back and finding clothes no fit. But... expand that. House no fit. Old tavern no fit. Want old life but have to live new one."
"We kept each other going, Faran, when one stumbled the other carried. I must apologize for being such a big lizard but you did a great job." Cryosanthia smiles, and leans her head as the spider-bold leans in, staring at the silk chains. "I am glad I got him that chance. I'll not give up on the others either, any of the others."
Because some where lost in that last confrontation, and none came back unchanged.
The white sith listens to the gobbo-shark's questions and interpretations, and nods slowly, "I was, She did. See all these faintly blue scales on me? It's where she cut. It was a dream, her dream, she didn't know I was real. She was a youngling. I'd fear being held accountable to my dreams too."
"And you are right, about the clothes, the house, the tavern, the old life, exactly that. Every day I can remake my world, it is hard to get unstuck, of the same rooms and the same three floors and being inside. I can go anywhere and do anything I want, I have to get to thinking that way, find life anew, find a new nest. It's very uncertain, full of change. This one can only hope it works out."
"It's nice to meet you, too Irshya, thank you for helping my sister, too!" the Faranmi-bold replies with another of those open mouthed smiles toward the goblin, before she turns her snout back to the large and leans in to the limits her webs allow her and tries to nuzzle, "I know you won't, Cryo. It's not in you." she says gently. She settles back into her web and "All anyone can do is move forward. To change is to grow. To be unchanging is to be stagnant."
"Sister?", the Gobbo wonders, glancing back and forth between the two. "What did they feed Cryo to make her so big?!", she asks of Faran. Irshya gets more comfortable in Cryo's lap, looking sleepy. "Dreams are strange and terrible at times. Scary thought to think that actions in dreams lead to real world... changes."
Cryo bumps herself on the rock and then she is sitting closer to Faranmi-bold, where she can stretch her neck up and nuzzle her snout against the bold-spider's, "That's what we have to do. Break the block of ice."
The white-scale winks at the gobbo, "Bugs. I ate a lot of bugs when I was small."
She pets Irshya, hand sliding in the direction of her streamlining, being a comfortable seat and encouraging drowsiness. Her head nods slowly, "They were. Terrible dreams, terrible changes, terrible suffering. And we ended it. At a cost. Enough people pushing, enough weight, to tip the wheel the other way."
"Yet I keep wondering, was it worth it? If we'd gone to bed and not played with a glass of water, water spider, how would things have turned out? If one of us had said 'no', or 'yes' at the right time, or kept our mouths shut. Been bolder, or less bold. I stick these thoughts on my dagger and throw it away, and hope they melt with it. So far, they keep returning too. One day I will lose them in the bay. One day they will melt. One day, Winter ends and turns to Spring. Maybe today, maybe not, but one day."
A giggle, and the Faranmi-bold makes another such smile to Irshya, "Always stuffing her face, this one!" and the eyes on the right side wink as she cants her head a little to that side. There is a look to Cryo and, "What if you weren't there to try and draw the slime off of me, white flower?" she wonders, "We weren't that close then, but we became so that night, sister. I think our bond is worth it."
Irshya makes a face at the thought of eating insects. "Irshya think Cryocryo pull her leg." The Gobbo's blue tongue is stuck out once more, and then she yawns. She does appear to appreciate the gentle stroke along her back, letting out a pleased little sigh. "Irshya wonder same thing about her journey to big city. Mother is... evil, Irshya knows difference between bad and good. So Irshya leave. Follow floating houses to big city. Irshya not regret it... but does regret it. A little. Always a good question... is it worth doing? But after? Sometimes, it not worth doing. Sometimes, it is. Can't ...
She yawns again, and then continues. "Can't second guess one's own self. You have facts. You make decision. Have to deal with consequences. Whether consequences of not acting, or consequences for acting. As Cryocryo say, no change is stagnant. Have to move forward. To move forward, have to act. So..."
"That is worth it." Cryo raises her head, her sapphire blue eyes gleaming, her nose bobbing up and down slowly, "That. Yes. I knew you fondly from Gilead's Horn, but I was still sore from... things. Emotionally. Sitting was not hard."
The whitescale smiles at the gobbo-shark, keeps carefully caressing, "Only a little. There are a lot of big bugs in Am'shere. Sometimes you have to eat them before they eat you. And evil is a thing, you are good to escape it, and it is hard not to feel the path not taken, to wonder..."
"A decision is a moment that lasts forever, has consequences, has to happen. You are wise little snapper, thank you for your blessings." She exhales and looks out, at the small waves that keep rolling in and lapping at the shore. Each one a little different, and also part of the pattern. Never the same twice. Unique, like a snowflake. Regular, like the seasons.
The Gobbo's eyelids get heavier, though she fights to stay awake. The feeling of the caress is definitely putting her to sleep. "Two roads diverged in a wood, and..." Irshya's voice grows softer, until it is replaced by a gentle snoring.
The whitescale sith-makar keeps up her gentle stroking, listening to the snoring and the sound of the water. Carefully so as not to disturb, she reaches back and her cold iron dagger vanishes into her haversack. The other one has already vanished back into her soul. Both hands resume the slow pets.
The sun is timeless on the water, refracted and reflected in thousands of bright spots, like scales across a great snake. Ever changing, ever remaining, petals of light scattered out as far as she can see.
Above, her sister spins, her web growing wider, catching light and candy crickets, each strand a-glow. It is peaceful, Cryosanthia is at peace. The question is no longer on her mind.
Only the water, and the waves, and the sparkling scales, and the quiet splashes as the waves come to her and wash over her toes.
