Song of the Aeons

[Tam]

((I've got one coming, but I don't think I'll have time to write it up for a while — so don't anyone wait for me, mmkay.))

[Zylaa]

The woman sighed. The people on the shore seemed to be getting along well enough. No open hostilities, no blood. She picked up bits and pieces of their conversation as Nuisance alighted in a tree nearby.

"You would be of great use to us if you would consent to show us where we might make camp and find food for our men, for they are numerous and hungry.”

So they had need enough to trust a stranger, and a threatening one at that. This was good news! The woman smiled a bit, and felt the always-disconcerting sensation of feeling both her own mouth move and Nuisance's beak. She had a thought, and before she could finish contemplating it, she felt thoughts from Nuisance-- Good idea. He moved, with her along for the ride.

Nuisance soared across the party, over their heads, and took up a perch on the railing of the deck. He ruffled his feathers and cawed, looking pleased with himself.

"Coward," hm? His thoughts were altogether too smug for the woman's liking, so she didn't apologize.

The idea was simple. People so wary of each other would examine the bird. Nuisance carried the same magical trace as she. If the mages failed to pick up on her necromancy, all well and good. If they picked up on it, she could start running.

If they picked up on it and didn't care, she would know she was stuck in a dream and just wait around to wake up.

((I have no preference as to whether or not any of your characters picks up on her necromancy. =D It'll be awesome fun either way))

[Rikku]

((Not terribly useful and I doubtless get the order of things wrong, but still! =D))

The Earth-mage cut through Cye’s rambling. “Where do you come from, O fine-coated sky-spirit? You speak and walk as if this land” - with a gesture of his staff at the forest - “is yours and yours alone, and yet you are a part of it – though in airier ways than I.” This last was said with a glance at Fiercely, and Cye smiled that he’d picked up on the binding. Perceptiveness was pleasing, because it implied usefulness; and Cye was on the verge of telling the mage (the mage, the singer. He was yet to ask their names, he realised) something teasing and meaningless just to irk him, along the lines of We princes are like that, when the singer (he really ought to ask) cut in.

“I do not think anyone as wise as he would answer such a pertinent question from strangers, and strangers even to this very land upon which we stand.” She gave Cye a smile. “We are, as you know, inexperienced in the ways of your land and your people, if indeed you even belong to any. You would be of great use to us—”

Cye listened with a mix of amusement and indignation as she went on. Sky! The girl was actually indulging him, all terribly patronising, and Cye had to fight the urge to bristle and snap. On the other hand, that meant that she’d realised he was useful enough to be worth indulging, which perhaps meant that these people had more sense than they seemed … enough to be potential allies, even? The kind you told the full truth to and relied on and who relied on you in turn?

But if they had enough wits to make worthwhile allies then they had enough conscience to recoil from the things Cye was planning, and the things he’d already done.

And Cye had no wish to be bound to anyone, in any case.

The important thing now was to get them to the city, and from then on things wouldn’t be too difficult. The people of his friendly welcoming home had a habit of killing people if any slight was made to their Emperor, and those people being mages … Well. So maybe this little force could be provoked into fighting back, and that would be a joy. “Many thanks, my lady,” he said smoothly, trying to seem pridesome and inflated by the praise, which, in truth, was not terribly difficult. “There’s a flat patch of land ten minutes’ walk in that direction, if you follow the river …” He gestured. “A little marshy on the way, but the destination is solid enough, and it’s not uncommon for a variety of beasts to water at the river, and plants to grow at it. Forage for all your men would be tricksome, but if you have any archers among you, they can doubtless bring down something for the stew pot, if they’re halfway competent.” He eyed them. “Which,” he added disdainfully, “looks about accurate. A moment ...”

He stroked Fiercely’s head and launched her into the sky, proudly watching the flurry of wings turn into graceful rapid flight. He could slip into her mind if he wished to, but she was a fine hunter on her own, and he’d found that sharing the falcon’s consciousness too often could be disconcerting, particularly when hunting; he lost himself too deeply it, and when he came back he’d stumble on legs he expected to be claws, blink around half-blind at the blurriness of the world, taste the rawness of blood in his mouth.

Anyway, it hurt after a while, and he disliked digging the scars any deeper. He did dip into his natural magic - a little, not enough to hurt, just enough to feel the movement of air more freely so he’d be in a happier temper and more able to deal with mages with, perhaps, overly perceptive questions. He felt an odd stir and frowned, because it was entirely too familiar, reminding him of when his cuts were first made, the long dark nights, bowls of blood black in the candlelight. All useless, it turned out, and he still burned with wrath over that, and he turned his gaze from Fiercely to the thing that felt of blood. It was a crow: black-feathered, bead-eyed.

Well. Blood made sense. It was a crow, after all.

Cye dismissed it and turned back to the singer, adding, as if in afterthought, “And camping by the river will make things simpler when we start to travel up it tomorrow. It’s the quickest way up to the mountains; the river flows down from there. The mountains are lovely to look at,” he added, patronisingly, as though they were there to marvel and wonder at the sights. He didn't know their real purpose, but he had a few guesses, and he doubted it was that. “And have most of the population here, and plenty of Earth magic for you to tap into, or whatever it is you do, ser mage.” He gave the two of them his best courtly smile, which never quite managed to reach his eyes. “And it occurs to me that I am being terribly uncivil! Might I inquire as to your names? I cannot always be thinking of you as the Earth-mage and the Singer, after all.”

[Deleted]

((Short post is short. I was hoping Shade would've replied by now but I want to stir some life. I hope there's enough to get something going.))

In this strange new land that felt so foreign, where even the air tasted different and the ground seemed to move the wrong way, there was but one source of familiarity. The sweet and alluring melody that Aithne had first heard as a servant was stronger here than anywhere else she had ever been. It spoke to her of power and justice, or truth and holiness and righteousness, and she longed for its embrace just as much as the song seemed to long for hers.

And this Master of the Air, this “Cyan”, mightn’t he know all about it? Where the music was coming from what was causing it? So when he asked her name, and because names meant nothing to Aithne, she gave hers readily. And because Singers are oft ignorant and overly trusting, despite all she had seen at the sound of his voice, she thought it wouldn’t hurt to tell him a little more.

“We’re looking for one place in particular, Master Cye. The very birthplace of song or so some say. I can follow its sounds as the bird flies, but I know nothing of the land that falls between us and our goal. Would this be a task noble enough for you?”

A few voices from behind her made the Singer turn. She spotted a gathering of her oath-bound soldiers who were evidently investigating a man. Disinterest allowed her to refocus on Cyan and Merlin, that latter of whose arm she wrapped her slender fingers around. For all her confidence, Aithne was still a very young woman, and that really couldn’t be helped.

[Shadaras]

((Shade is currently caught in schoolwork, apologies. Shade has had no motivation to post. Shade should be bothered to post sometime in the next week, though; she now has no excuses about why she can't.))