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Post by libellule on Dec 1, 2008 0:12:20 GMT -6
Zanen was not beautiful. He was not charming. He was not dashing. He was not elegant or graceful. Or any of that blushing, bickering nonsense. He was perfectly dazzling. He was breath-taking. He was so heart-stopping it was disgusting. Danalii wanted to lick his face to steal the taste of his facade. The touch of his fingertips sent a tremor through her thick muscled form. Electrifying bursts shot through her as if she was a five year seeing a seductive kiss for the first time in public as he almost lovingly pulled those knots loose from her majestic mane. This passive demon turned her powerful being into jelly, his words shuddered her heartbeat to silence, and brought it back to life in galloping spurts as he lay his being and aura against hers.
She thought she would almost lose her form entirely as he rested his forehead against her neck in outrage. The demon had not even known her and yet there he was, putting trust into her. He may not have realized it, but he had taken refuge against her neck. No matter how short the time span, Zanen had done it. Before he left her, Danalii boldly wrapped her thick head over his shoulder, caressing his muscled shoulder with her nose before her stood back.
She was taken aback by his gesture, terrified that he had figured her out. Surely if he had he would have called her name. The shudders of her tense figure relaxed as he walked away. Danalii couldn't understand how he could mold her in his hands. She did not like it. Even though she raced Necromancer throughout the day, his jeering and nickers did not manage to comfort her.
--
Zanen's face haunted her throughout that night. The edged marble face would not leave her thoughts. Any sudden sound that squeaked in her room, rustled her alert and poised in tension. Danalii wiped the sweat from her forehead. Sleep was not going to find her this night. Shrugging off the sheets, she dressed once more into her normal gypsy-esque attire. This time it was ashen gray. It was quite apparent Danalii loved simplicity, but with that she loved color of all varieties. Her barefoot steps echoed no sounds to awake anyone from there peaceful slumbers and sugary dreams. Sighing enviously, the Dellavis slipped through the front doors quietly. If a guard had been awake she did not want to give off the impression of spying either. Let the doors creak, she was not hiding.
Sauntering off to the stables, she entered the warmth of the wooden structure, digging through the tack room. A quiver appeared on her back as a beautiful bleached long bow draped its beautiful length across her shortened muscled frame. Danalii smeared charcoal across her forearms and hands along with a touch of liquid that smelled much like oil.
Exiting the stables, she breathed the crisp air of the night. What a beautiful time, an indescribable beauty.
Standing across the familiar field behind the castle the wind picked up her long silver tresses as she dug a line in the dirt in front her. Smacking her palms together, a flame sputtered to life as the line grew into a ray of fire. Strangely enough, the Dellavis began side stepping and toe dancing. Liquid movements that completely mimicked the never frozen flame before her. It was a concept performed in the courts of Lilani. It had been dubbed "Fire Shooting" and it was rarity even in the her 'precious golden' courts.
From far away it looked as though the seeming graceful Danalii slipped. But the quickest of eyes would catch the unsheathing of her bow and arrow, simultaneously with the barrel roll she used to catch herself with as her legs kicked up, in the matter of split seconds she had.
The slick crack illuminated the arrow and filed the field as the sinew slapped her forearm. As sparks erupted from her arms and swirled around her a beautiful golden streak tore across the field, landing strategically at the bullseye in the archery target before her. The Dellavis landed with her back to the flaming arrow in a perfect balanced crouch. "Starlight, starbright," she chanted in a hum.
Turning to face the target, she whipped out an another arrow in sheer inhumane speed. "First star I see tonight," her goddess voice rose softly as she pulled back tightly as the bow groaned in protest. "Don't let me have my wish tonight..."
Skillfully, as she let the arrow go, the charcoal and oil didn't light it. The sheer power that bow pushed out it sliced through the air with a high pitched scream as it landed perfectly at the bulls eye, slicing the flaming arrow in half and thus dispelling the soft flame.
"Still got it," she concurred apathetically. The more concentration she took the less she thought of him.
Perhaps the fire might have aroused the slightest suspicion of alarm.
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Post by Willow on Jan 9, 2009 19:06:09 GMT -6
It was night and the shadows were warm. The palace was filled with a deep silence that only death or a very true sleep can possess. Everyone was sleeping, resting, or just being utterly still, completely quiet. Asina, the Priestess, the ruler of this land, was in her chambers in her bed, between the covers with a satisfied smile across her lips. A floor below, the dogs slept in their own wing, even their breathing silent. All about the house, servants were taken over by the need to rest after working all day. Everyone was unaware. It was a dangerous time.
But Zanen could not sleep. He could not find it in himself to be within the palace walls while there were bodies that breathed and yet did not know their surroundings. He could not be among such obliviousness. Such peril. It made him uneasy. To think that anyone could sleep so peacefully was beyond him. He knew that if one foot stepped upon the territory that should not be there, Asina and any number of the warriors living within the palace walls that were personally trained by either Asina or himself would wake. He would know it on the wind. So in that sense, he was not anxious. The Oracle was confident enough in the skills of his Priestess and his warriors that he could leave them safely.
So he left the palace.
Footsteps fell silently by practice, by rote, as he moved across the grounds. He wasn't sure what he was going to do this night to pass the time. Train, perhaps. Visit with the equines. Mayhap he would just sit on some hill and wonder, or watch. Any of the above things were tasks which he partook in on a regular basis. They defined who he was, because that was what he did. He killed, he fought, he trained, and he watched. Every now and again, he would use his shadow lore to slip in between the folds of otherwise impenetrable darkness and allow it to swallow him up, taking solace in it as he visited with those who took a different approach to life than what he was used to on an every day-to-day basis. It was good, he thought, to get away, to experience another way. Another life. It gave him a semblance of freedom that he never felt otherwise.
Except when he...
The masked demon shook his head slightly as he climbed the hill, violet eyes casting almost violently down to the side. That was a long, long time ago. Before this war, which had lasted for millennium. How many, he had lost count, but it had been so terribly long. Yet, he could still remember. He could remember back in the before-time. Back when Asina had just been born and her father, the High King, had placed her in the care of his tribe. Back then, when it wasn't so cutthroat. Back then... He shook his head again, not wanting to think of it. It was too long ago, and things would never go back to the way they had been. They were now how they had been for longer than forever. The majority of his long life had been in living in this terrible terrible war. He relished in the blood and the power, yes. The thrill of a fresh kill, the pain and the horror in his victim's eyes filled him with a fierce joy like near anything else. He could not picture perfection without war.
Yet what he had now was not perfection. There was a lacking. A lacking of that which used to be. That which will never be again.
He had been walking for a while now and he crested the hill, invisible to anyone who would look up to it, blending in with the night. There he stopped and looked down at the scene below him. There was a whirl of dark color, of flames licking the sky, and of a shadow that nearly blended with them for her movements matched them precisely. The Oracle frowned. He knew who it was. He could sense her from here. That Dellavis. The new one. He began down the hill, remaining hidden. Although it had first occurred to him to stop the idiocy there, his recent thoughts of the before-time stopped him. He knew of Fire Shooting. He had seen it done by the best of the best, and he was curious as to what this woman was convinced she could do. As he watched, though, he knew that she was practiced. He could see it in the line of her body. Had he not known exactly who it was, he would have thought it were one of the Raves, the species that had invented the movements. But they were all gone now. Where, no one knew. They had just vanished one day a thousand years ago.
The light went out. She had completed the ritual.
"I wonder," he said, his voice a soft and rolling melody, low, different, "if you make habits of shooting flaming arrows in the middle of the field in the middle of night." His voice just rose from the shadows. He wasn't right behind her, but off to the side a little ways, his arms crossed over his chest, violet eyes watching her apathetically if but for a small glimmer of...something.
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Post by libellule on Jan 9, 2009 21:24:47 GMT -6
It thrilled her to watch the faces of elderly scholars drool after her as her feet rocked the ground and as the fire licked her skin without burning it, merely caressing it as if she was a flame herself. She giggled as their eyes lusted after her dance, her ritual. The beauty that is the Sequin Marketplace brought her to a woman with no name, just a purpose.
She was a peaceful and strong demi-demon. The Bijou de Soleil could not even wrapped her liquid movements around the connection and the liquidity Fire Shooting brought to its patron. Danalli was saddened and proud in the same emotion. She wished she could show the Bijou step by step, but the elder Raves forbid the ritual be shown to any that could not be trusted, in fact, to any that did not share a direct connection to the Heavens. Unfortunately, Danalii had not found a Gifted being yet. Apparently she was a rarity herself that she did not even know of.
"Cuirashen'tak Baelli," the strange words would run warm shivers down the most stoic and apathetic of spines because it was the majesty and beauty of the gods, "To Baelli, my beautiful mother, the Sun Goddess." The barest tickle of a hushed giggle ran across the field as Danalli raised her arms to the sky as the flames died and the coals lost their color when a wind did not exist. A flame sputtered to life as she opened her hands before tossing it to the sky, a wonderful arc licked the night sky in a beautiful display as her final thanks.
Her bow was in poised in a sheer split second as it trembled, aimed for her intruder. It was a blind aim, but thicker shadows swept a colder draft across her hot aura corrected her guess. Her glare was hostile as her her knuckles whitened. She remembered that voice, the distinct rustle it had as it rolled across her ears, the softest graze and the coldest mellow hush. The one voice she did not want to hear, the one voice she heard enough of. The tension eased and the arrow fell back with the others on her back as the softness in her eyes returned, her hardened demeanor fell instantly. An apology flushed her features at once. Danalli was quite certain that if anyone could understand aiming a bow at a strange voice in the middle of the night, it was Zanen. "It was not intentional," she whispered, "You startled me."
"Shooting flaming arrows in the middle of a field is hardly the correct description you are giving this performer, my lord," she offered, a little bolder this time, "Sleep is never by my side in the night. I may get an hour or two in a day. Lucky for me, us equines don't need very much sleep. Three hours is spoiled amount." She clasped her hands together and smiled softly. "Why do you hide if I may ask, my lord?" As much as she wanted to get away, she had never spoken to him for more that mere seconds, she liked the meeting she had found herself in.
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Post by Willow on Feb 22, 2009 18:19:28 GMT -6
It was not so much that Zanen was moving among the shadows and the darkness as it was that the shadows and the darkness wrapped around Zanen like a dear, dear friend. The world had a shift built into it and his own aura tapped into it, possessing the shadows to where it wasn't that he moved with them or used them as a refuge even, just that wherever those shadows deemed he need be, he was there. Wherever those shadows danced and shied away from light, hiding that which needed to be hid and highlighting the greater darkness where it need be noticed, that was where he was.
She was quick, she was skilled, and he knew she would be by the movement of her dance. This new member of the palace was suddenly on his radar because of that dance. Because of that skill. As to whether or not that was exactly a good thing was still yet to be seen and it would be a while before even Zanen knew himself exactly what he thought about this development. He'd thought that such Art had been vanquished with the Raves disappearance. Sure, there were pale imitations, but weren't there always?
There was a flash of memory that he pushed away. He was slipping if just seeing such a practice was almost enough to send him back into days that would never come again. Days that might as well never existed.
Well, that wasn't completely true. He'd become who he was because of those days, but it was useless to think back to them specifically, especially now in the height of the war thus far. It was the most tense period of combat and strategy since the High King was assassinated. The nearly successful attack on Asina not too long ago was proof enough of that. There was no time for such idle folly. No time for daydreams and superstitions or even personal interest in anything except his duty. His calling. His purpose. Which was to help Asina push past her sister.
Not to dance.
Of course. Of course. Of course.
The most lethal weapons are artists for their skewed view of the world, the innate insanity that allows them to comprehend all different aspects of the world at the same time, bring them together and then alter them, edit them, corrupt them to his will. Both Asina and Zanen were the same breed of artist, because one had taught the other their trade deep in the forests before being dragged into leadership and war, tragedy and such disgusting horror. Such a beautiful, disgusting horror. It was enough to make him thank the skies and choreograph dedications to the carnage as the bile rose sour and burning in his throat.
The Dellavis' words of hiding brought him out of his conflicting thoughts enough to feel the tiniest hint of mild amusement. He stepped out of the shadows, letting them fall away from him as if simply shedding a cloak. Violet eyes were the only visible feature of his face, seeming to dance briefly with their own light as he looked from the woman to the sky and back again.
He did not answer her words about hiding. Instead, he edited his previous statement.
"Fine, then," he said. "I find it a bit odd that such Art as Fire Shooting is being performed in a field in the middle of the night without the precursor of Wind Flight and the after-duet at Skyfall." His words were casually spoken with practically no emotion at all. He wanted to know how close she was to the origins of Fire Shooting, to the Raves, to the foundation of the truth of what Dance and Worship really meant in relation to the other. If she didn't know what he was talking about, then she had happened across an oath-breaker. If she did... well, he had revealed some of his own knowledge, but that could easily be disguised with the excuse of age and experience. It was just enough revealed to say that he'd met Raves in the past, knew of their secret practices. But of course, he was a spy and an assassin and the lord of the shadows themselves. There were a million and one reasons and ways he could know such intimate detail.
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Post by libellule on Feb 22, 2009 19:33:00 GMT -6
As his observing eyes swept across her, Danalli did not flinch as she had mentally. The malice in those amethyst gems was substituted as poise. The equine was used to the coldness already and she was damn determined to decode their sheen. A cool breeze brushed against her heated skin, the damp smell of the earth infiltrated her senses. Her skin twitched softly, as her eyes closed briefly against the breeze, happy to have his scent not distracting her thoughts for the sheer seconds she had to think clearly. His statement caught her off guard. Fire Shooting was the only dance she could perform without mistakes, something she could perform inhumanly. She had mastered Wind Flight, but could only perform it on the perfect day, which rarely came often for her mind to be clear and the wind to whirl just right around her conscious.
The shadows released their precious cargo as if they were allowing a small child to stand for the first time. His best allies. As he made no move to readjust his garb Danalli realized her question would remain open ended. She should nickname him "Enigma," perhaps Necro would snicker at that one. She snorted in amusement at the thought of his reaction.
Skyfall's precious ritual and worship ceremony... She had no mate to perform that with, she was still considered a child in the eyes of Raves, her coming of age ritual was never completed. It was far too intimate and required a bonding ritual she could not connect to anyone without her Elder. She had mastered her part and the part she would teach her 'would-be-mate' and yet... She would never have a use for it. The shame that crossed her face made Danalli turned form Zanen before he could catch it. However, her Elder had given her a specific exception of Fire Shooting.
"If you were practiced, my lord," she spoke, looking to the sky and its stars, with a small ounce of an unknown tone, "You would be smart enough to understand Skyfall's duet will never apply to me. Wind Flight was taught to me with a rushed practice. I have yet to call on it with Will. Perhaps within a few decades I'll have it." She turned to back to him with a darkened smirk, a feature that was not common to Danalli. "Ghatreg was his name. I know you are wondering, dear Zephyr, and because of him and his ability I was given full rights to my Art of Life because of my simple exception." Let his thoughts dance on her unspoken ones.
"Wouldn't it be nice," she whispered with a faint, dimming smile as she looked past him, perhaps into the past, "To dance and bring the night into morn and watch the sun kiss its land... to watch it grow? And to recognize differences with such beautiful peace..."
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Post by Willow on Feb 22, 2009 20:24:13 GMT -6
This one was dangerous.
He remained still and completely dry as he listened to her, watched her as she spoke and graphing out her words and speech patterns in his head. The way she spoke. Something in the very way she held herself. It was different and it was dangerous. Too dangerous to overlook. Too dangerous to leave alone.
It wasn't the kind of danger that he needed to defend Asina from. It wasn't the kind of danger that the masses would suffer from. It wasn't any danger that the woman probably even knew she possessed, which was at least one small blessing.
Because it was a personal danger to himself. This woman was a danger to him. She was so terribly dangerous to him because there was something about her that called to that other side of him, that side of him that was.....other. That side of him from before. That side of him that still existed in those moments between night and day and then day and night. Those moments of barest twilight. Those moments he spent by himself, those moments where he unveiled himself. Those rare, precious moments.
Yet.
Yet he shook his head and for the smallest of moments, he gazed into the sky and he stepped out of the half-facade of the Shadowspawn, the evildoer, the one who felt nothing.
"That is a lie," he said softly. "Skyfall's duet is barred only from those without the Gift to Sight of Beauty. Skyfall's duet is sacred because it is the most purest expression of that Beauty." He did not look at her while he spoke, he just looked up at the sky, he just stared into the star-streaked blackness and remained otherwise completely still. "Skyfall's duet can apply to you, you are not one barred from it."
He looked over at her, her last words reaching somewhere into him, and he was glad that the black swaths of his veils kept his face and expressions completely hidden.
Yes, this was a very dangerous woman.
He shook his head sharply and turned away from her. "Yes," he said, but it was just the barest of sounds as he began moving away from her. He needed to get away from this woman now before she did something more to him, before he crumbled completely within his shell. He needed to get away from her and stay away from her lest she learn too much.
He had a terrible feeling that if she did, he would not be able to correct the situation as he had every other flaw or instance. He would hesitate.
Yes, she was a very dangerous woman.
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Post by libellule on Feb 22, 2009 21:22:16 GMT -6
There was a precious secret laying wake within dear Danalli's soul. A secret so unbroken and with so much potential it could waiver the balance between both warring nations. The flames sputtered from her hands without a match and the scent of the sunlight energized her body and refreshed her from the thirsty ritual of Fire. She was dangerous in the sense that she was not aware of her own inner core and her unique link. She was dangerous to the masses for all of the right and wrong reasons depending on the nations. Dellavis' did not side. How could she? They were peaceful creatures. Perhaps she was a slumbering Rave, part of her past was buried with unconscious. Danalli had always considered herself apart of the Earth and all of its miracles. The way the wind ran with her, the way her soul was enchanted with a link to the Heavens, the way the light made her body glisten. Everything she saw in the light fought to win her approval. The trees, the lakes and rivers, the beauty of the blue sky. Danalli couldn't remember the day when she had seen a dark and gloomy day. Her memory was fuzzy when she tried to remember her days before meeting Ghatreg in the Dredge of the Sequin Marketplace, but even those days were long and hard to remember.
The air was too hot, she couldn't breathe, but she ignored it. There was too much darkness, too many shadows. All of them encasing him. She watched his back solemnly, his walls falling into their draped place. "It is a wonder why they hug so close to you. You of all things that is precious to them. Their precious cargo, their jewel of the night." Her voice was too calm, too dreary,...too dark. He had closed the door on her unintended intrusions. Her figure blurred as if she couldn't control her own change. Fire Shooting tapped into her once in awhile and worked its own after-effects on the core she knew too little of. "That's all they'll be. No wonder this world is so dark. It would be so much better if..."
If what? If we could all get along? Hardly. Fire Shooting and Skyfall's beautiful worships meant nothing to the new world. Her chocolate eyes were dazed with hurt and recognition. "This is all that's left. Isn't it? This broken world that will never quit? This war that will never stop..."
He would not answer, he would not turn to face her, Danalli knew this. It was not who he trained so hard to be. The beautiful Zanen she had met was tucked away in a locked chest that was never supposed to be opened in the first place. His shadow-self protected the being he was, his shadow took his place. She would never see the smile and feel his trust the way she had on that morning of rarities. Zanen knew his place. Danalli needed to find hers. Yet, here she was, disrespecting a person who was more than hundred times higher than herself, and she was not the slightest bit afraid as she should have been. She was not meant to change anything. She was just something to add to the fire.
And here she thought she could make a difference in this nation. "You're both the same," she dropped her eyes to the trodden floor of the earth, and let out a defeated sigh, turning from him and watching the target with broken eyes. It was apparent she was speaking of both Priestesses' nations.
"What is the use of pushing against a shadow," her strength forced the hurt and annoyance out of her before her mind could check her speech pattern. Her control was flailing against the power that built within. The darkness added holes to her weak barriers that it broke past. She needed light.
A loud crackle sounded as her hands grew into fists, a stream of electricity ran across her hand as the air grew hotter. She could not let this 'force' outweigh her as the frustration built inside of her.
"Let him retreat back to his shadows," she mused under her breath as the wind picked up, attracted to the light from her hand, "You can be so much stronger when you exercise weakness into strength."
Pulling her bow out once more, she latched an arrow and pulled into back with much more ease than she had before. Grow men couldn't pull this long bow like she could and now with this 'force' it was like breathing. A screech filled the air as she let it fly. It had more power than the one of the Fire Shooting ritual, but it illuminated all the same without her shroud of fire. She repeated her actions and the wails of the arrows grew louder and faster, tearing the frustration from her mind with each thud they made. She was accessing this unknown 'force' within her as the electric crackles grew more and more frequent and the arrows brighter. Each arrow split the one before until the target itself fell over from its own exhaustion and that was over 200 yards away.
Ghatreg had told her when she danced that "Light was always are her side, but that it was her decision to make which side was "Light." He was the only other person she'd known that had a direct connection to the Heavens as she had. He was, however, the only one she'd known who could speak directly to the Heavens and its occupants.
Danalli grabbed at empty air in her quiver as she stumbled clumsily to the side, almost drunkenly, a rare movement from such a graceful creature. She swayed, trying to focus on the dying flames far off as her form blurred, determined to keep going. No doubt, her stronger half was trying to keep her up right in the process.
"There is no easy choice to make," she answered her fallen Elder with a shameful tone as her voice broke.
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Post by Willow on Feb 25, 2009 16:23:51 GMT -6
He didn't know what it was, the force that persuaded him not to slip completely into the shadows and flee. Running away was an expression of cowardice that was near foreign to all that Zanen was. He did not run, not from anything. He embraced the challenges that were thrown away, fed from them, used them threadbare to push everything else away until nothing else but that challenge existed. He part enjoyed it and part needed it. But this....this was something he was well and truly tentative to explore.
Not because of the woman, Danalli, specifically. No. It was something else, more akin to what he thought he might not be sensing that once he could.
He remembered the morning like it was just this past rising of the sun. He remembered being awake already and leaning out one of the highest balconies of the palace, leaning out, his eyes trained on the horizon, watching for the first rays of light to caress the land. Just like it did every morning. It was a morning like any other almost exactly a thousand years ago, and he hadn't known that it was going to be the first of too many that were.... wrong. The rising of the sun was a communal time. A time where all of those bonded to each other throughout the world breathed in at the same time, their heartbeats feeling each other's as if all in one collective chest. It was an intimate moment, but it was one of unity. One that all Raves looked forward to. It was a time of hope.
That morning, it never happened.
He waited, and he'd watched, and he never felt his heart beating at a steady pace with every other Rave. He never felt it. He thought that maybe he would hear the despair of the others when they didn't feel it either, but he never did. Almost immediately, he'd fled from the palace and set out in search of Evanstar, his Center Clan. It took him two days to reach the location. No one was there. He went to visit those he knew, fellows he still kept in touch with, those he'd become close with. Those he worshiped with. When he'd gotten there, he felt nothing with them. That spark of recognition was gone. They just stared at each other in horror in every single instance. Individually, they were still the same, they could still feel that connection to the world that was so precious, but their connection to each other was gone.
That was the day the Raves disappeared.
The way Danalli spoke, it was too familiar. The moments he stayed behind, cradled in the shadows, he saw her lore and he couldn't help but just stand and watch, unashamed, enthralled. The demon in him, the Zephyr that burned in his blood watched her and was curious. The Zephyr in him wanted to know, touch, sense, explore that strange power that seemed to burn inside of her. The demon could sense it. The demon could sense all power, it was a Zephyr trait. They were powerful, and they were so terribly sensitive to the powers that be. So he could sense that power inside of her. He could not recognize it, but he could sense it, he could feel it whispering across his skin, crawling beneath it and sinking into his bones, buzzing and dancing in his blood.
Again, she began shooting, and Zanen watched, cloaked and hidden in Shadow. He watched her shoot and defeat the target and something stirred inside of him. Something that had not been touched in almost a full thousand years. She swayed, and for what happened next, he would never be able to answer the reason why. He stepped forward. He stepped forward and he steadied her, his hands resting gently on each of her arms, the soft fabric of his gloves the only barrier between their skin. But it was what then happened that made his violet eyes widen and his hands to release her suddenly as he stumbled backward. There had been a spark. A spark of recognition that was achingly familiar. It was sharper than it used to be, because it had been a thousand years since anyone had experienced it. He regarded her with wonder and a tentative mystery, then he looked off to the horizon.
Light was just beginning to stream into the sky, it had been for the past few minutes, as she began shooting again. But now, now the sun was just rising. That first ray of light slid over the land and he felt it. The presence of a heartbeat against his own, beating at the exact same pace. Once, it had been a hundred heartbeat. Now, it was just two. His, and one other. He looked at Danalli and his violet eyes were wide with shock and near-disbelief. A thousand years and now...of all times... now. He looked at her with his other sight, with the sight that could read her as what she was. It was a sight he hadn't even tried to use in hundreds of years.
"Light," he said softly, his voice a rustle of leaves in the wind.
Light and Shadow. Something was beginning.
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Post by libellule on Feb 26, 2009 1:08:07 GMT -6
Her mind fought against the wicked weight of fatigue, her feet unable to find solid ground. She couldn't understand why it insisted on moving so. Why couldn't the ground stay where she had asked it to stay? Warmth encircled her. Not a warmth you can receive from a fire, a meal, or a blanket. A warmth you can only receive from a companion or, at least, a concerned stranger. Her mind was instantly brought back to the material world as she felt his hands on her arms. It was as if they had shaken her from her unconscious reverie, his power reviving her in some way. The world stood still as the raw untamed energy his body surged met with her own hearth of aura. It was so... personal.
She felt the world freeze as if her change would initiate and the soul of her equine self would shoot forward, out of control, but her change was retained as something else awoke. A jolt separated them as she fell forward, the light shove Zanen barely gave off took a toll on her drained body. She was not prepared for what would happen next. The sun rose softly, greeting her as it did often, with its bright brilliance. Her hand laid across her chest, something was extremely different. Last time she checked she only had one heartbeat. Danalli gazed down in utter disbelief. She instantly looked behind her from where she sat on the damp ground and locked her stunned chocolate eyes with Zanen's amethyst that did not look so cold in the morning sunlight. Could it be his heartbeat? Or could I just be insane? They almost seemed to shout the same emotions as hers before he looked off, which answered her question. He was at least experiencing something he had not prepared himself for. Two heartbeats, echoing each other with such indescribable beauty, such pristine equality, was so unifying. 'With such peace,' her mind even whispered, not wanting to disturb this magical moment. She had never felt so connected to someone she did not know. To someone she sometimes never wanted to know. What was this? Ghatreg had never told her of any bonds or links. the Dellavis didn't know what to think, except for how much more detailed the scenery looked. She noticed the smell to the grain within the oaks that whispered to her clogged ears. It was as if her heightened senses of her hoofed form solidified to her human form.
Danalli remembered her morning with Zanen and Necromancer as her heartbeat increased slightly and she heard Zanen's in return, keeping up the pace. Had the rising sun been this beautiful on that morning as well? She watched the sun wake its land from its long slumber. She watched the flowers bloom and the dew drops shine rainbows across the grass and she watched the sunlight drench the world with its beauty. "Ah Baelli," she murmured, astounded by the true beauty of a new day. She observed the sun rays kiss her skin as she waved her arm softly, making it gleam. Her body soaked it in like air. The warmth and the fullness of its power filled her to the brim. A new brand of excitement and temperate curiosity instilled within her. Her strength returned to her instantly, as the Dellavis got to her feet with swift and graceful ease. As she turned to Zanen, her eyes were full of gratitude and wonder, not knowing exactly what to make of their prompt connection. It was miraculous and that was most of what she could sum up together.
She could only just watch his clothed face, in that moment, and allow her eyes to drift to his chest, where his heart was concealed, with admiration. "And Shadow," she concluded with a barely audible whisper.
A coincidence indeed.
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Post by Willow on Feb 26, 2009 2:06:14 GMT -6
They stood, Light and Shadow, at the crest of something beginning, something new, a different chapter not just in their lives individually, but at a new chapter as it is written of the whole world. They stood, Light and Shadow, at the crest of something beginning and were both filled with wonder and awe, and perhaps a little bit of fear, something that Zanen wasn't completely used to. Fear was something he would feel fleetingly from time to time depending on what was coming next. It was just those times when he was alone and thinking, thinking of the past or the future, all by himself, where he ever felt that true icy grip of fear that he had trained himself to note and then ignore so that it would not interfere with his missions.
Now, it gripped him. It was a small grip, weak, a mere caress, the wonder and the amazement maxing out that small cold tendril. No, there was too much warmth here at the moment. The warmth of the sun, the feeling of another heartbeat so intimately close to his own. It was something he had yearned for...for so terribly long. He hadn't realized how much he had really missed it until he felt it again. He hadn't realized how much he had depended on that wonderful oneness that it created, that unity it filed him with so much more than just a never ending mission.
A hand lifted and rested over his traitorous chest, and tears beaded in his eyes. He never noticed them. Instead, he was looking out at the sun, watching it rise, the golden rays making those little beads of emotion dazzle in the corners of his eyes.
This was surreal. It couldn't be happening. It had to be some sick nightmare. When the Raves had stopped being able to feel each other at sunrise, when they could no longer meet and know each other, it had become too painful to keep in contact with everyone. It had just hurt too much. So they had drifted away. It had happened pretty much immediately with the Center Clans. There is nothing more painful to a Rave than to separate him from everything. Cut the ties that bound him to the world. All of those ties were not cut, no, the individual ones remained between world and Rave and Rave and their specific bonded aspect of the world, but that connected between all of them, that brotherhood..... it was gone.
"The Shadow cannot survive without Light," he said softly, looking off at the horizon, his gaze wistful, gentle, longing, appreciative, even loving as he looked at the land. "The Shadow is not Darkness. It isn't." But he had been living it. The Shadow was not Darkness, it needed the Light as the moon needs the sun to shine and survive, to exist. He had been without Light for a thousand years.
"No," he said, and his voice caught slightly, overwhelming with emotion he had pushed away, not allowed himself to feel because he was supposed to be Darkness, he was supposed to be, he had to be -without the other Raves, it was the only thing left-, "the Shadow is not Darkness....it isn't. It needs the Light."
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Post by libellule on Feb 26, 2009 11:42:29 GMT -6
The wind swept around her, brushing her figure with a warm tickle as the sun beckoned her gaze once more. Turning, she could barely breathe as she watched it ascend to its place within the clouds, its throne, as the shadowed moon whirled around the sky very near. It was always waiting to share the load, to carry the weight of the yolk. It was always so gracious and kind to give up time of its expeditions to watch the sky as the beauty of the day rested, its ivory hue illuminating the darkened world. And yet as the day brightened to the blue and darkened to its midnight facade the moon never left the presence of its other half. It had barely a day's rest each month, just one day out of some thirty. It was such a responsibility and it seemed to be mastered perfectly. The sun seemed so powerful and, yet, so protected. Like the moon, it was nothing without its other half. It was the Light of the World and the moon seemed to Shadow its deeds with cautious security.
"Without Light there is no hope, no glory, no victory," her voice cracked once more as she continued on the lowest decibel, "Only cavities where souls once occupied. Only voided Darkness."
It made so much sense. It was so clear to see. Why hadn't she recognized it before? Why hadn't the thought crossed her mind? It was no wonder why she'd felt so alone in this world after Ghatreg moved on, so empty. It was so hard to tell herself she was normal and the Link to the clouds was just a strengthened telepathic skill. She was wasn't normal though, no normal Dellavis felt another heartbeat or even a bond to anyone, a pureblood demon at that. Had she found another Gifted? Or perhaps... another piece to the ever growing puzzle that always seemed to be unfinished.
Zanen was always cloaked, always sheathed in Shadow. He was perfectly concealed in broad daylight. He made hushed entrances as if to never draw attention to himself and stealthy exits as if he was never there. Danalli was quite certain the only reason why his beautiful orbs weren't concealed was because he wouldn't be able to see as agilely if they were. If they were a mirror, he would be her reflection and make up one half of their world. A complete opposite that was so directly connected to her center of gravity, to her soul. Danalli was so much different. She wore bright colors and allowed her glistening long silver tresses to flow freely and caress the wind that kissed them. Her face touched the sun with every second she had with it. Her sheer-covered arms and hips spoke of a darkened skin that colored her entire figure, which would lead to the assumption of her activities during the day. Her eyes spoke freely of their emotions and she was not tempted in the slightest to hide them. She had stood bare in the forest many a time, unarmed and unguarded, before her change as she allowed the warmth and light to lift her spirit.
The pain in her chest stung with a sharp unforgiving stab, but it was not her pain. She gritted her teeth as tears formed in her own eyes, they were too powerful to hold back. Those emotions were not hers, they were weathered with wisdom and had so much more depth, so much more age. She sucked in a breath as she felt the unseen strings tug taut on her soul, tearing and pulling into their freshly made anchors. Zanen's painful emotions caused her to turn to face him and she was startled. Were... were those tears? Her astonished gaze was mixed with concern that she tried very hard to imply through this structured and already strong bond. Perhaps if he felt her emotions he would, in turn, feel a little better if it worked as his painful feelings did on her.
"Then Light," she whispered, almost lovingly, outstretching her hand, the sun making her skin glisten once again, "Your Shadow will always have."
It was promise she was willing to make, it surged through her with a deep-rooted and honest goal. It felt like another piece to her puzzle, it was quite fitting. What was a Sun without its Moon? A mirror without its reflection? Even though she didn't know his character and his demonic nature, his emotions were 'humane' and they were true. She was also quite certain this connection could not be 'turned off' as simply as it had been 'turned on.'
Why was it that she could perform ancient slumbering worships and sometimes control the Sun's territorial elements? Why would the sun always shine for her and the trees move their roots out of her way so she wouldn't trip when the wind gave her speed to out run the fastest of stallions? She felt the trees' ancient thoughts and their cries in the night when their trunks were cut down. She felt the rivers adrenaline surge through her with its beauty and felt the panic as the beds were drained dry. The very ground her feet stood on filled her core with even more comfort and love, she felt the rhythmic heartbeat of the Earth itself and at a far off distance the pain stabbed her as rocks were lifted from the ground in some quarry. She was Light alright, but the Light of what, or whom? What was she? Was this why Baelli watched her so? Was Danalli more than just another log to the War's ever growing bonfire?
Forcing herself to tear her gaze from him, she once again gazed to sun, watching it wistfully as if hoping for some answer, but the beauty silenced her busy mind once more.
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Post by Willow on Mar 31, 2009 19:05:25 GMT -6
How many years, truthfully, had passed? One? Ten? Hundreds? A thousand...? All this time, spent severed from reality. At first, it had been such a cold shock, such a harsh, cold shock that Zanen hadn't known how to react, how to respond. So he'd just kept going. He'd returned to the palace, to Asina. He'd returned to his duties, his killing, his war. He'd returned and every morning he watched for the sun to rise, anticipated the moment he would feel the heartbeats beside his own. Every morning for so terribly long until it no longer came as a surprise that he was so alone.
Until this morning. Until this beloved sun rose and spread her light over the plane, painting it with color and life and love. It was like pulling back the curtains in a dark room, and he had been living in that dark room for so long. Such a horribly long time that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be able to see, truly see. Because that was what it was like. That connection allowed him to See. It was what let him shift through the world and gather the thoughts and feelings and sights and sounds and existences of everything. Anything. He was called Oracle not just for his prophetic abilities, but because he had been the connection between the others. Even those that were not Raves. That was something solely between himself and Asina, but it had been lost to him until now.
The return of it was like the return of breath to the lungs of a drowned man.
The air stung, but it was so wonderful to be able to breathe again, to be allowed to live again as he was truly meant to live. How could he have possibly gone so long without this? It was like the whole world was in a different light now. The same light as before. The true light.
He could see it again, know it again, and it warmed him. The Light warmed him. She warmed him.
Violet eyes glittered and tears soaked into the black swaths of the fabric that hid his face from view. His gaze shifted to Danalli and the tears flowed faster. His hand reached out, took hers, and there was a soft caress of electricity that danced from her palm to his chest. He gripped her hand and turned his face to the rising sun. It rose and spilled light over his land. The moment it reached them on the hill, he finally noticed that he was not merely crying anymore. Soft shudders and shakes were wracking his shoulders in little sobs, though he made no sound. He gripped Light's hand and he wept. He wept for the beauty of the world, and he wept for that he could feel it again, that he was welcomed into the weaves embrace once more.
His knees hit the ground and his whole body shook, with the force of this emotion. His free hand ripped away the mask that covered his face and he lifted it to let the sun kiss it. It was the first time sun had seen his face so openly in so long. So terribly long, and it was stained with his tears.
Zanen drank in the sunlight and shook his head slightly before he bowed his head and just broke down.
The Shadow had been bound by Darkness for far too long.
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Post by libellule on Apr 25, 2009 21:44:16 GMT -6
His pain stabbed her and the loneliness emptied her optimism. Her teeth clenched bitterly against the sudden wind that was torn from her, her outstretched arm shaking. She weezed before she focused against the tears, punching the pain away, this wasn't her. This was Zanen's reaction to his relief. This was not pain. It was beautiful, beautiful joy that had been restrained for far too long. He had trained so hard to become something so detached and yet so incredibly powerful. He trained so hard to become a god, to become flawless and untamed, unpredictable. Instead of becoming a shadow, void of feeling, he became an empty soul, capable of feeling, depressed hollow, carved, bloodless feeling. Capable to hate, to loathe, to decieve, to lie, to kill, to not have remorse, to have anger, to die. She had given him something he would never be able to achieve on his own even though he would never allow help. She had given him the Life he had loved so dearly. She had given him his dreams that never seemed possible, his precious locked up Zanen. She'd given this Darkness its beloved Zanen. His eyes startled her so much that her tear lined face gasped sharply. The tears that seeped out like beautiful waterfalls allowed her into a world so precious she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't go on. The recognition in them broke her heart as the pain stabbed her swiftly again. His hand instilled a sense of peace even if the pain was magnified. She felt her beautiful concern touch his heart softly as he gripped tighter. She could do nothing but stand and watched in horror as his walls fell... One. By. One. She could do nothing, frozen in her stance, with Zanen's hand gripped so tightly as if it was her key to life. Her reason for living. Her grip tightened as she didn't move or breathe.
The Earth groaned as this beautiful god's knees hit the ground. She groaned in pain suddenly as the agony became too much. The Earth felt the shuddering link of Zanen and reverberated it with its own pain to Danalli. "I..I," she choked viciously against the sobs, "W-wi-ll...-n-n-ever...le-ave... y-y-ou... through anything." She fell infront of him, pulling their hands to her heart, incasing them with her free hand before letting them go. His beautiful face stunned her again and she couldn't help but smile softly as she cradled his face and leaning her forehead into his chest. "Oh Zanen," she offered serenely, "Pretty cares so for you. Precious Zanen."
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Post by Willow on Apr 25, 2009 22:20:17 GMT -6
His awareness of her never left him. She was right there, beside him, then down in front of him and so close that he enveloped her, he took her in his arms because it was so terribly natural to do. It was the dream of Shadow of him to meet and finally embrace his Light, the endless dance as the flames of the fire dance in the night. He wrapped his arms around he and he pulled her close because as he sobbed there was nothing else to do. He didn't want to let her go.
He couldn't.
There was a kinship there, more than just the kinship of Raves, and that alone would have been enough for him to cling as he was now, to hold her tight and close and bathe in the sunlight as it washed over them, painting color across the world and giving true life to beauty of the waking existence. There was nothing else but this at the moment. Absolutely nothing else. He was more vulnerable than he had ever been in his entire life, more vulnerable than he was when sleeping or when injured. He was completely naked to the world, his heart open and pounded, and against the back of his hand....he could feel hers, too. In his chest, he could feel it, beating against his in a joint life. In the back of his mind, he knew that it would fade. But he also knew that from now on, whenever he willed it he would be able to find her heartbeat, he would be able to concentrate and feel it and then he would be able to hear it in his ears. He would always be able to find her. No matter where she was. And every morning, just as the sun clears the horizon and that first ray of golden light shoots over the land, touching the world and bringing it to Life, he would feel her heart beating next to his own until they were in tandem.
He looked into her eyes as she cradled his face and he lifted his free hand to tenderly touch hers, fingers grazing over the smooth skin in something like wonder. Then she spoke and for a few moments he didn't really understand, he knew there was something that he was missing. Then it hit. "Pretty," he murmured, and a small, tender smile slipped over his lips, his face softened, the strange music of his sandy voice now hoarse from the crying. "My Pretty," he whispered, unable to keep his voice steady. There was so much here that he understood, and there was so much that he just didn't care too. What he knew right now was that he felt both more stable and yet unsteady than he had felt in over a thousand years. The shock was a huge one and here was his Light, right here, right with him, and he nodded. "Danalli..." he whispered softly, violet eyes searching her face. His fingers trailed along her silver hair, then over the features of her face as if her were a blind man trying to see her. They sketched over her lips and he gave a small smile, the tears still trickling down his cheeks, the relief and the pain still tender in his chest.
Then he just gave in.
He pulled her close and held her tight and inhaled the scent of sunshine of her hair that mixed with the moonlight of her skin. There was something so terribly right here that in all his life, in all his training, he just couldn't deny. He could not deny this as who he was anymore than he could deny the bloodshed. He was a demon, yes. But he was a Rave first as any creature who was a Rave was first a Rave.
And no matter what species you were, a Rave loved, a Rave was built from love, lived off of love, and derived his power from love. The love of Light, the love of Shadow, the love of the Earth, the love of the World.
So he kissed her, and he showed her, with no regard of what would come next, because he would figure that out when he came to it. Right now, he existed. That was all. He existed in his natural state. And in his natural state, he was Shadow, the Shadow of the World that loved the Light.
And since she was in his arms, he could not deny her.
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Post by libellule on Apr 25, 2009 22:52:10 GMT -6
Danalli hadn't expected much from the gloomy entrance of the palace that day... It seemed so against her views, so tame and stoic against the wild untamed world of the outside. The guards that were sworn into sacred, unmoving loyalty to their deaths. She smelt it in the dirt and tasted the bloodshed in the drops of rain. This place spelled a devastation as she shyly wormed her way through the docile maids and cooks. She brought her bright colors and foreign garb that sometimes made the occupants squint and offer apologetic smiles. Danalli refused to be broken into dull colors and rounded edges. She would not conform, she would converge. And though her colors dulled into soft pastels they never fell into grays and blacks and purples.
It wasn't until her precious friend Necromancer. He was the one who opened the door to a world she would have never dared to even knock on. Zanen. Her mysterious Lord of Shadow. Her being a forbidden enchanted admirer. From the moment she felt his electric fingers through her tangled mane and his scent in her nose, from the soft caress and the designs he drew, from the protection she secretly felt as his arms fell around her equine head, from the beautiful smile that touched her soul... From the heart she knew existed. It was the playful glint she though she saw through the ice that was always on display. It was the dreams of his beautiful smiles that never seemed to leave her sleepless nights.
Her thoughts wheeled to a frigid halt. A shaky breath filled her lungs as her deep chocolate eyes met his now-loving gaze. There was so much she could decode. So much emotion. So much beauty. 'My Pretty.' Her heart fluttered as she felt the flush douse her cheeks. His tender smile was not the reaction she had expected from him.
Something moved inside of her, something airy filled her and something filled her throat. It was such a broken sound... it sounded so pained and yet so true. The air was getting harder to suck down as his hands caressed her skin. She could only close her eyes against his solid and yet, gentle grazes. Her body shuddered as his fingers remained on her lips. The power that was instilled over such a simple touch flooded the gates. It was as if he was trying to commit ever curve of her face to memory, every crevice and smooth line, ever soft spot and freckle. It was so... adoring, so respectful.
It was her turn to sob. It was her turn to close her eyes against the protective curtain, the draped comfort that came from her defense. Her sweet dark, Shadowed defense. She could do nothing but hang her head against his hand and allow the sparkle of her liquid gem stones to glisten in the sunllght before they hit the grass. She had hidden her forbidden desire for his arms around her, just like this. She had shadowed it in a darkened corner because she had to, because it was not worth the effort. She had banished it from her mind before he could even see it in her eyes and yet, here it was pouring on the field's lush floor.
'Danalli...'
A sigh escaped her guard as the heat of his breath lingered whimsically against her collarbone as his face was tangled in the scent of her hair. The tightening of his grip brought her from earth to cloud nine. Was he going to... "Zanen," she answered with such a strong, beautiful whisper. His lips answered her questions.
The feel of such electric wonderment... Such sacred amazement brought an onslaught of emotion she released from hiding in her heart as her secret love for him spilled into this kiss. Danalli was never one for a lot of words, but the tears that soaked her cheeks and his had to clue him into something. She wasn't sure if this link worked as well with emotion as she hoped, but she kept her fingers crossed. Danalli wrapped her arms around his thick neck and softly caressed his cheek as her fingers wove themselves within his own locks. Her name sounded so powerful, so meaningful, from his tongue, his hoarse beautiful voice. Her Moon was finally whole and she was there to look after him. Her side belonged to her heart. Now her Shadow was apart of it. There was no denying this bond. His sadistic and malicious character was lost to her as the sweet taste of his salted lips infiltrated her agonized senses. She could only pull him closer. She could only silently sob against them. She was his.
She would /always/ be his.
One hand left his hair and trailed down his collarbone to the source of this mending and she placed her palm firmly against his beating heart, hers echoing in her own ears and her hand. She could no longer hide from him and his demeanor no matter how wicked she claimed it was. She could no longer shy from his towering presence that sent shivers up young spines. Danalli could not run from herself, nor would she ever be able to run from him. She was within his presence at all times and with practice she was certain he would be within hers. He would feel her pain and she would feel his. He would be able to find her and she would try to find him. These pieces were beginning to fall so much easier. So complete and without loneliness. Her hand gripped at his heart, swathed in armour and ebony.
She wasn't alone anymore. She would never be alone anymore... The tears continued as her lips could only quiver against his.
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