Winds of Light

[Zakharra]

This is a continuation of the Winds of Darkness. This is a scene that holds special importance for Inthara Despana. For here she opened her heart for the first time and found a happiness that she never could have found anywhere else. I thank Mikayla/Sheyreiza, mr. duncan/Jain'n, spider jones/Amenia, laurelin/Rilralia, Aeterna/Anolesa Silversong, and the others that helped in this. I made up most of the song as I typed it, so I know the wording and rhyme is not the best. Inthara is like me, a beginning bard.

Enjoy the story



The young drowess walked back from the Grove. She had been dancing all night, as it was the night of the full moon. She had danced, naked except for the holy crescent moon symbol of Eilistraee around her neck and the elven longsword she had bought . Celebrating her goddess’s night. After dancing and singing all night, she had fallen into a pleasant exhausted reverie.

Upon waking, Inthara dressed in a skimpy outfit a assassin ,who had tried to kill one of Jain’n’s Lonelywood elves, had worn. The gold elf had told her that it looked much better on the sorceress than the assassin, so she had kept it. She picked up her pack and sheathed the longsword. Slinging the pack and blade over her shoulder. Inthara walked up to the magical fairy Trode, that allowed the elves of Lonelywood to travel many miles in the blink of an eye.

She smiled and stepped into the magical light. Her mind focusing on the little village that was rapidly becoming home. The words for the Trode falling silently from her lips. She let the magic path pull her from the Grove to the village. Setting her down as easily as she did a empty cup on the floor. The sudden light from the open area, made Inthara cry out in pain. The sunlight reflecting off of the snow and ice. Dropping her pack and sword, she covered her tearing eyes and searched her pack for the blindfold she wore during the day. Inthara found it and tied the thick cloth around her head. Covering her aching eyes.

She rubbed at her eyes, picked up the dropped pack and sword and headed to Jain’n house. Near the door, she slowed. Seeing a thick squat figure. Frowning, she took a closer look at it. The frown deepened into a scowl as she realized that the heavily armored person was a dwarf, not a metal golem. She had never seen such a heavily armored dwarf before. From head to toe, the dwarf was encased in steel. She could feel the magical enchantments coming from the armor. The dark elven sorceress shook her head and walked past him. Muttering under her breath in elvish. “Great. Another hairy runt.”

Opening the door to the house, Inthara walked in, closing the door behind her. Inside she was a very odd scene. Jain’n, Anolesa, Amenia, Sirrill and Rilralia were there. Everyone except Rilralia was garbed for battle. Dressed in armor and weapons gird on them. Rilralia was sitting close to the fire. Bundled in blankets and holding two tiny swaddled bundles. Sirrill was talking intensely to her in a quiet voice. Inthara dropped her pack and sword by the door, turned to Jain’n and asked, “What is going on? Why are you garbed for battle?”

“Where you followed here?” Jain’n asked her. His eyes never leaving Rilralia and Sirrill.
“Nau. I wasn’t. I did see a armored dwarf outside the door though.”
He nodded. Hand resting easily on the hilt of his sword. “He is a friend and their guide.” Nodded to Sirrill and Anolesa.

She turned to Anolesa, saw her tilt her head. Indicating that she wanted to talk to Inthara. A sense of disquiet grew in her belly as she went to the corner of the room with the tall dark elf priestess. There Anolesa spoke quietly. “Inthara. Remember the time I spoke of earlier?” She nodded. The disquiet growing. “That time has come. You have to make a choice. To stay here or come with me.” She could see the desire in the solemn prowess’s eyes. She wanted Inthara to come with her.

Inthara’s heart froze inside her chest. She wanted to go. To warmer climes, but she had a reason to stay here. A very personal reason. One she had only recently found, to stay. Tears welled up in her golden eyes. Slowly, she shook her head. Whispering to the one who loved her. “I cannot. I have a reason to stay. A personal reason.”

Anolesa Silversong nodded and sighed softly. “I will come back again and ask you” She nodded and opened her mouth to say something, when the words Sirrill was saying caught her ear.
“I want one of the twins then. To take with me.” Rilralia cradled the newborn babies close to herself. Anger on her face. “No. Newborn babies need their mother. How would you nurse them? Keep them warm? You cannot have them.” Sirrill looked disappointed, then Jain’n spoke.

“You take any of them and you will die.” He stepped forward, Hand clenched tight around the hilt of his sword. Sirrill sighed and stood. He nodded to Anolesa and headed to the door. The drow priestess following him. Inthara made a quick decision.

“Wait. Anolesa I have something for you. A gift.” She reached into her pack and dug out a book. The copy of her journal. She stepped up to the tall cleric and handed it to her. “Take this and remember me.” She took the book. Nodded to the sorceress and followed Sirrill out the door. Jain’n following them. Inthara went over to Rilralia and sat down. Her eyes on the twin newborns.

“What are their names?” She asked. Fascinated at the sight of them.
“Ellewyn and Salkieryn. Ellewyn for Jhessra’s mother and the one who raised Jain’n, and Salkieryn for Treedancer.” Rilralia smiled down at her babies. Forgetting the troubles that had come up, in her children’s sleepy eyes.

In the corner Amenia, stirred. Watching silently as always. Her eyes hidden under the helmet she almost always wore. After a few minutes, Jain’n came back in and closed the door. Locking it securely. The two warriors looked at each other. Nodding a bit, the drow ranger unlocked the door, “I’m going the Grove” , and left, Locking the door behind her.

Jain’n sat close to the two females. His amber eyes watching them. A few minutes later Sheyreiza came downstairs. Dressed in her normal garb. A fur lined cloak and boots, and the warming stone lying against her breasts, and nothing else. She settled in beside Jain’n. Small talk ensued. The recent events were talked about. While this was going on, Inthara kept looking at Sheyreiza. Her mind going back to thoughts she had earlier. When she had finally figured out what she felt and why she had followed the lovely Yathrin d’lolth up to the surface and the north.

Inthara swallowed. “Sheyreiza?”
“Yes, Inthara?” Sheyreiza looked at the sorceress.
“I have something for you.” She felt her heart racing in her chest.
“Oh? What is it?”
“ Have a song to sing to you. I have not finished it yet, but I want you to hear it.” She stood. Took out the lute she had been learning to play and tuned it. Sheyreiza climbed into Jain’n’s lap. Settling in comfortably, his arms around her.

Inthara swallowed again and took a deep breath. Her fingers picking out a elven tune, but with a dark elven beauty that was unknown on the surface. Humming softly she opened her lips, and sang in the elven tongue.

"In Darkness we lived,
Raised to hate, to fear,
To strive for Her favor
A life of dreadful cheer.
In the City of Shimmering Webs, Ched Nasad,
Filled with webs of silken dread.


Against ourselves we struggle and strive,
Daughter against Mother, Father against brother.
Rivalries that rip and tear,
Our lives we smother."

Her voice rose in strength as the music slowed in tempo. Shey sat comfortably. Jain’n’s arms around her, his head resting on the top of her head. Rilralia rocked her newborns with the tune.

"In the Darkness we grew, held in chains of lies.
A chance we saw, and for that escape we fly.
To Skullport we landed, weary and worn.
Our past to ourselves we had shorn,
Each sought refuge from our foes,
Strength to aid us in our throes.

And when the Port of Skulls grew to dank,
We left that pit, to flee again.
To the Frozen north we fled.
A land of ice and snow.
A Flower came into the light and began to grow.

The Flower grew cold in the wind,
She was helped by her companions in aid and like kin.
There is the north, the Three were captured,
The Flower, the Butterfly and the Oak,

Proud of race, proud of pride,
We Three were bound for a fearful ride.
The Dark Maiden’s Ones, searched and sought,
To teach us the yearned and fought,
With words, deeds, and kindness we were shown,
That our fate was not ours alone.
The Dark Maiden watched and plead,
For our hearts to open, to see.
What She wanted all to be.

In one of the Three, a light was lit.
Love grew in her heart.
Striving the One fought, to hold it in.
To keep this light in the deep dark pit.
For to let it out, this light would shine,
For all to see, the lame and the blind.
The One fought, until it was too late,
The light shown bright, revealing the hate.
Sweeping it away, clearing the plate."

He nuzzled the back of Shey’s neck. His hand massaging her shoulders and down to her stomach

"The One was found, shocked to see,
She had changed in the pit,
Was not what she had been.
Each sees the light in a different way,
Different in the sight of the light of day.

This One, one of Three. The Flower, the Butterfly, and the Oak,
Have been changed by Her grace and love.
Kindness of the gold to the black."

She looked at Sheyreiza and Jain’n. Her golden eyes glowing softly in the firelight. Her heart beat hard in her chest, yet the words flowed from her lips easily.

"We Three have changed in the North.
Land of Ice and Snow,
Where a Flower, a butterfly and Oak can live and grow
The Flower is cared by the gold.
Loved and tended (cared), kept from the cold.
Still there is a love once said,
Hidden in a heart once filled with hate and dread.
To love is to know toil and pain,
For loves sweet embrace means to choose to live,
A life of change, to hold and to give.
For the Flower, loved by the gold,
Is also loved by the flier in the cold."

Sheyreiza cocked her head. Eyes suddenly intent upon Inthara. Jain’n’s eyes focused on her as well.

"This flier, bound and held, was offered a choice by the Flower.
To follow or to go free. A choice she took,
For her heart was true, To help The Flower, she bound herself to you."

Inthara looked into Shey’s eyes. The priestess’s eyes widened slightly and her lips parted. Very intent on Inthara now.

"This I sing, my heart is yours,
My patience, love and will to serve,"

She dropped to one knee in front of her. Setting the lute to the side. The only sound was the wind blowing over the eaves and the crackle of the fire. Her eyes glowed gold as she gazed deep into Sheyreiza’s blue and red eyes. Singing softly,

"To all of the Gods of the Seldarine,
This I swear to be true,
With all my heart and body,
I , Inthara say to you, Sheyreiza Aruvndar,"

She took her hand in hers and kissed it gently. Her voice barely heard above the sound of the fire and wind.

"I love you."

Inthara’s voice trailed off as she opened her heart totally for the first time and admitted to them WHY she had followed Sheyreiza. And still did so. Sheyreiza’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Then she reached out and hugged the young sorceress. Inthara’s eyes widened at the contact, then leaned into the embrace. Her arms going around her. Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

“A beautiful song, Butterfly.” She said softly to Inthara. “Our tale told in verse.” Her hands stroked Inthara’s hair.

“I had to sing it. To tell you what I felt and why.” She wept, in Sheyreiza’s arms. “I had to. Goddess, I love you. It was for you.”

Sheyreiza nodded. Stunned. Her heart was in turmoil as she felt her way thru the news the sorceress had sang to her. “Shhh.. shhhhh. I know, Butterfly. The song was sweet. Like your heart and soul. Gentle.” She kept tears from her falling from her eyes.

Jain’n and Rilralia smiled at each other and the two embracing women. After a time, Inthara stopped crying and sat back. Sheyreiza wiped the tears from her eyes. “We are old in years, Butterfly, but in feeling these emotions, we are as children. Our past swept aside by these feeling. Nothing we were taught has prepared us to deal with these feeling.” The two held onto each other for a time. Jain’n holding onto Shey. Nuzzling the back of her neck. Rilralia smiled. Holding her babies close.

The wind blew around the house in Lonelywood. Inside six elves, two Sun elves, two Ilythiiri and two baby elves, sat by the fire. Chatting. Sheyreiza on Jain’n’s lap. Inthara sitting next to them. Her hand in Shey’s. Rilralia rocked the newborns. They chatted about life, and love. And the future. Later they went to bed. Rilralia with her babies. Jain’n, Sheyreiza and Inthara together.

She was happy. For now, at this time, she was content. The young drowess sighed. A smile on her lips as she held onto Sheyreiza. Holding was enough. She was with the ones she cared about. The one she loved.

Outside the wind blew as a storm gathered and fell upon the little community in the frozen north. While inside a young Ilythiiri woman reveried with her loved ones. Dreaming pleasant dreams.

[Souvarine]

Well made and fun to read.

It should be an immense pleasure to spoil that blasphemous love triangle...your time is coming, Shey ! Lolth does not forget, much less forgive...A great evil shall rise to "right the wrong".

[Mikayla]

Well done Zakharra. It was certainly one of the more moving moments of our game yet, and your retelling equally so. I have to say, for a song you made up mostly on the fly, I am quite impressed and extraordinarily flattered. Perhaps the thing I like the most is your use of the ‘the Flower, the Butterfly and the Oak’ for Sheyreiza, Inthara and Amenia respectively. All those nicknames arose independently as we played, but you were the first to put them together like that. Quite beautiful. I am proud to have been a part of it all, thank you Zak.

Souvarine wrote:

It should be an immense pleasure to spoil that blasphemous love triangle...your time is coming, Shey ! Lolth does not forget, much less forgive...A great evil shall rise to "right the wrong".

It seems Shey inspires hate as well as love, but we already knew that from Souvarine/Vali’rae’s previous posts. No story is complete without an antagonist, and the measure of the protagonist is largely a mirror of the measure of their foe.

We shall meet again, Vali’rae, my ‘sister,’ under circumstances you will likely dictate. Though all may go as you plan, things will not likely turn out as you think they will.

***

Now, to paraphrase a quote from Senator Benson during the Dukakis/Bush election battles:

"I knew Lolth, Lolth was a friend of mine - you are no Lolth."

[Souvarine]

what fun would it be if all happened as planned? isn't chaos the source of my entertainment ? i used "right the wrongs" to show the irony of it all.

Not sure if your paraphrase applies to me or vali'rae, or both? though my goals with the character are far from all-shattering (as i made it sound in that little semi-IC tirade). Vali'rae's opinion on the matter would be a different affair, but hey...she (me) needs not to loose the fire, less it'll all end before it starts . And trust me, it is not easy to keep going for the sole possibility that this story might unfold in...the coming months! But if it does, it'll be well worth the pain and frustrations of long lonely hours.