Logs:Many kinds of blindness
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| RL Date: 13 May, 2008 |
| Who: Lujayn, X'lar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 6, Month 5, Turn 16 (Interval 10) |
| Rielsath senses that Malsaeth begins his newest story with a preamble: « Best keep a glow around for this tale. » And with that, begins creating an image of a rider-dragon pair, a short woman of late adolescence and a lime green dragon, old enough to be out of weyrlinghood, perhaps even old enough to have been in a wing for a couple turns already. « Maorith and Talena were a good pair for fighting. The green was as cold as ice to others, but to her Talena, she was as warm and gentle as the sun. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath never has a dearth of light to spread, and so shares it now. The advised warmth seeps slowly, blazing orange sunbeams and crystal clear waters pooling outwards. A list of images flickers through her mind, almost too quickly to catch. Glimpses of other pairs, comparing and discarding when they fail to measure up to this new duo Malsaeth presents. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth adds his own, clarifying those waters from a higher advantage, the bronze seemingly flying above the beach in Ista himself, the sunlight's warm caress shifts as darkness makes itself known. Clouds gather slowly. « It is said that Talena happened to love Maoirth more than just the usual love a rider has for their dragon, and vice versa. They were a pair in love that sometimes, it distracted them. They may have been clingy with one another, but both seemed to be hard as rock to other dragons and riders. » The bronze allowed the scene to be set, filling the sky above Ista with Talena and her lime green lifemate. « And then, one day, they were given an assignment. To give a message to someone on a nearby island. It wasn't important enough for a Wingleader to go themselves, so they sent the ice-in-their veins Talena and Maoirth. » He trails off, allowing the sunfire gold to absorb the story so far. A colorful ripple, waves fading through all the fiery colors of a sun's reflection. Rielsath drifts along behind, watching the events unfold from her casual quiet. Oh so patient, if only for a moment, before her silence is broken with « Who'd be stupid enough to live on an island? By themselves? » (Rielsath to Malsaeth) Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers the questions asked by the gold before answering in his usual deep growling bass « Perhaps someone who wished never to love again. Or perhaps it was someone who wished never to be seen by another person, someone so closed off, that only an island could contain their fear of the outside world. » And with that spoken, he quickly flies in the air behind Talena and Maoirith, allowing the story to resume. Darkness filled this world like none before. Flickering shadows, vicious rain, ominous thunder and an insidious streak of lightning. The little island cottage looms ahead in the horizon as the pair continues to fly toward it. « I love you, dearest Talena, Maoirith told her, distracting her. And I love you, dearest Maoirith, Talena replied. » Their attention was no longer on the cottage, their sights blinded by their love. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath is in turn made curious and disgusted by the displays of affection, wondering just why the two would have to voice such a thing constantly. She gains speed as Malsaeth does, following him after the besotted lime green and her rider. Always carrying that glow of liquid sunset, even through the clouds and rain. The next rider pair to flick through her mind is of Lujayn and herself - then discarded. No, they are still different. Another image, this time X'lar and Malsaeth, and a question posed with a flare of sunny yellow: are they similar to this pair? She holds up the two in juxtaposition, trying to overlap them into one image. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers the last image of he and X'lar before making it warp and ripple, like an image damaged by a constant barrage of water drops upon it. And then, soon, another image of X'lar and Malsaeth appears, but this time, represented by symbols, images: X'lar as a perfectly poised fishing spear ready to be thrown into the ocean, a hundred notations and facts clearly organized in lists, mnemonically and other ways, a bated breath, a strong, but bleeding heart covered in chains, even perhaps the calendar of records to symbolize time; and Malsaeth? The hand that holds the spear, the chains against the heart, but above all, the bonfire flame, always persistent in its heat. « No, we are not like them. Never like them. » But perhaps this is only said because the bronze knows where this particular story is going. The darkness fades, lit by that sunny yellow, giving Talena and Maoirith enough of a distraction from their love of one another, to see the cottage. They land. The message is picked up, but not without Talena's personality being prickly, hard, like a rock. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath files the symbols away: spear, heart, chains. Her approval of the fire is evident by the surge in her own glow, a moment of golden noon adding lightness to the intense bonfire. She inspects the cottage, wonders at Talena's sudden shift in personality, but waits to see what happens. The answer is enough to satisfy her, at least until the next question comes along. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth almost feels uncomfortable as those symbols are filed away by the other dragon, but it's short-lived as that fire's lightness is very well received. Anything to add intensity to his own glow. « Talena was never good with people. She would rather be with her dragon than others. The only thing different about this was that giving this message to the cottage dweller meant less time to be with her dragon. » Soon, the pair leaves with the message given. It seems this story does not revolve around any haunted cottage, oddly enough. No, this twisted story is headed somewhere much darker. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath lets a paler, silvery echo of intrigue linger as the cottage and its strange occupant disappear from the story, following Talena back to her beloved dragon. Already trying to shake the suffocating feeling between the two, already looking for freedom on behalf of the misguided green but hardly wishing to end the story. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth moves the story forward, toward a much, much darker territory. Clouds cover the entire landscape now. With no rain, the wailing wind is the only companion to the pairing of Talena and Maoirith. « I love you so, Talena; I love YOU, Maoirith! » Their words of love for one another was perhaps even louder than the wind itself. Indeed, it would seem that these words distracted them so... that Maoirith could not see the craggy outcropping right in front of them. Talena was the first to see it. « My love! Between to the Star Sto- » And black follows. No words, no rain. No wind, nothing..... This is by no means the end, but perhaps the twist of the nail into the coffin of the story. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath dares to laugh at the foolish pair, a harsh flash of scorching, merciless sun so different from her usual youthful brilliance. This is to be mocked, this strange picture, and she does it well. Do they reappear, or is there more? Is this the moral, that love blinds? Rielsath circles even in the darkness, her light gone. There is no light to pierce the cold shadows of /between/, even in Malsaeth's make-believe tale. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth is, truth be told, relishing that moment of uncertainty from the older dragon, that sunfire gold. If anything that darkness of the void that is between becomes alive, palpable. Lasting much longer than just three seconds, if anything, it lasts lifetimes, only compressed into seconds. Finally, those crags appear again, dappled by bright sunlight. Another rider and their green arrive, and what follows is a horrified scream. « Within that craggy rock on the side of the island were the pair that loved too much, the pair blinded by love of themselves and each other, stretched into the rock like tragic statues. » Time had passed, see... Time had passed too much for anyone to perhaps even remember poor Talena and Maoirith with their rocky disposition, locked in love's embrace. « Yes, love blinds, Rielsath. » comes his final comment, finally ending the twisted story. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath has an image now, a real image to share with young Malsaeth. A rock eroded by time, some words carved at its base. Slowly, one can realize the sharp, jagged zenith could be bent wingsails, the outline of a dragon and rider grotesquely, faintly visible the longer one stares. « I know where that is. » Not boastful or horrified, but wanting to share and teach. « Have you been there? » She pulls free of the promontory, reveling anew in the freedom offered by an open sky and warm sunlight. Maoirith and Talena were unfortunate, but Rielsath knows she is different. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers Rielsath's remark and question that follows it. « Yes, Nalaieth showed me once, but we have not seen it with our own eyes yet. Soon. » He seems amused almost as he feels Rielsath's need to share and teach. « I fly, at least. Above Ista. There is so much to see. » He projects an image, clearly defined with every detail. It's the weyr in all its glory, not even a cloud can be seen. « Mine loves the view, but there are other views he wishes to see too. » Humour laces the last comment for some unknown reason. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath shares the humor, intense sunlight sparking a smoky fire. « What's that? » She inquires immediately, recognizing that landscape but finding herself unknowing of the second. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth seems sly at first, feeding the fire with his own intensity. « Ista or the other views? » comes his question, still laced in amusement. « Do you really wish to know? » When Rielsath repeats herself, it's more belligerent than her initial question, impatient. « That's what I said, » Less smoke, more fire, throwing unpredictable sparks. (Rielsath to Malsaeth) Rielsath senses that Malsaeth seems sly still, but the sunfire gold can likely feel his reluctance to reveal too much. Soon, however, the bronze shows an image of Leova, who, despite her 5'5 stature, seems much, much bigger in presence. « He was blinded by her. » And then another image. Lujayn. « He wishes to see yours some day, to show her my stories written as X'lar writes them. » An image duplicates, two thick volumes. « Every time he writes for me, he writes twice. One for me, one for yours. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath takes a lightning-quick moment to retrieve memories, hardly considered a pause. « That was a long time ago, » And something was different back then. « When he was called Xielar, » This is the name her rider's mind provides her with, though Rielsath does not remember a time without Malsaeth, when he did not share stories from faroff Ista. And that word, /blinded/. She searches for meaning, claws of fire prying. « Blind like Talena? Blind like Maoirith? » Then, more assured and smug. « You'll be here soon enough. » As if this is already fact, as set in stone as the unfortunate pair of Malsaeth's latest story. « And we'll be here, too. » Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers Rielsath's comments, oh so many of those comments. « He is no longer Xielar. » is his first reply, almost said in disgust. « When we met, he was and will always be X'lar. » His growl is further enhanced by the scraping of tectonic plates buckling. « Not like them, no, Rielsath. » A pause and he reveals just a little bit more information, the sound of the earth breaking beneath follows his voice: « I believe he was blinded, but his eyes cleared when he sent word to her. The thought of her no longer blinds him. He's learned. He's a better man for it. » He shows X'lar, alone, in the water, fishing spear poised to be thrown into the water full of fish. « He still has feelings, but he knows better than to express them at this point. Not yet. » He seems to pause as he feels that certainty from the gold. « We hope to be there soon enough, yes. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath understands, forthcoming questions quelled by the bronze's own form of certainty. « Sure he's not, » She agrees, and in fact can't conjure any memories of her own that feature a Xielar. « That would be just weird. » Letting Malsaeth's explanation fill the space around her: fish, water, spears. « Well, as long as he learned something, » There's some doubt in her tone, something darkly singed from all that bright flame, but she moves on quickly enough. « Come when there's snow. » She urges happily. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth seems to surround all those words and images with clouds, masking it all as he considers it all, absorbing it. And the he catches that doubt, making his thoughts more turbulent. « You do not believe he could learn? He is not the same man. Every day he changes into the man I know he can be. » This comment is wedded with an image of X'lar mounted on Malsaeth, clothed all in black with a sash of blood red around his waist. « When will there be snow? » The doubt was not for X'lar, but rather over whether or not learning something could be the greatest good to come out of a situation. This from one who can hardly sit for a lesson, only paying attention where she feels attention is due - and that's rarely for any teacher. « Later. » Her reply carries warmer spring drafts, hinting at a summer that is much milder than Ista's but still comfortable. (Rielsath to Malsaeth) Rielsath senses that Malsaeth shares that own restlessness toward sitting for a lesson. « Mine tells me it will get hotter here. I like it, but would prefer snow. And brown leaves. » Those crunchy leaves are changing colors and whirling through the air in place of fire, though all the right colors are there. Just as wild, but a chillier sense. A taste of burning ice, the harshness returning for another long winter. « It'll be here soon. » (Rielsath to Malsaeth) Rielsath senses that Malsaeth watches those crunchy leaves change colour and fall with abandon, the chill of burning ice. « Mine tells me he is already trying to find the right jacket for it. I look forward to it all. The snow, the ice, the changing colours. I like it all. » In place of the symbols of Reaches, Malsaeth replaces them with the burning sun, miles of black sand beaches, and finally an endless ocean. « Mine loves these things. I try to make him see there is other things to see, like this ice of yours. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath could be accused of having too much pride for High Reaches, though as long as the conversation keeps praising it... « Of course. It's the best place there is. » Even the warmer summer, devoid of snow or crispy leaves, is more pleasing than any other winters that await at Weyrs Telgar or Fort. Rielsath knows these, and they just don't compare. Another spray of leaves, just for his amusement. « If he wants to see mine or Vrianth's yet, he'll come. » Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers this in great amusement. « You are like mine. He sees nothing better than Ista itself. He is proud to hail from here, to be a part of the people. » He dives into these leaves enjoying the playfulness of the situation before spreading wings and flapping, sending leaves everywhere, like rain. « He will. He no longer hates it in ignorance. He understands now that beauty can be seen from other places. I've shown him images already, places that he will go with me. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath wonders. « Who would hate this? » A flurry of leaves descends, and suddenly the curious gold is gone. Just an inert pile of leaves. You can ignore that tail snaking out of one end, it's really nothing at all... Rielsath senses that Malsaeth seems very amused by that tail, seemingly diving back into the leads to find the body and legs to go with the tail. He makes the leaves shake with his humour. « Do you do this often? » For anyone else, it might sound corny, but for Malsaeth, speaking in his growly voice, it verges on outright brazenness. Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath knows how to lurk when she feels like it, hiding away in a great mental pile of bright crimson leaves. « You don't? » She counters, conjuring a faint image of thunderclouds. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth lurks with the best of them, seemingly moving to hide among the thunderclouds. « I scared mine when we went into the clouds today. We flew so close, he could touch them. » Despite his bronzen hide being such a crimson hue, he lurks well, almost like a chameleon among the clouds. « Though he prefers the sky now. With me. We fly a lot now. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath rustles away some leaves, the tip of a snout poking forth. Just enough to watch. « Just like you should. We can share the sky, that's the same wherever you go. » If Rielsath happens to disagree with Malsaeth's rider, perhaps they might agree on this point. « Clouds /are/ fun. » The glowing laugh, maybe a flash of lightning if she were secreted away in the clouds but all too conspicuous in the leaf pile. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth darts back into those leaves to find the other parts to the gold as the bronze spots the snout. « I like that I fit anywhere. Be in the sky, or in the water. » He provides a couple bubbles for atmosphere. And then soon, more leaves fall on that suspiciously inert pile of leaves. « Clouds are very fun. Mine tells me I can hide in them, and watch from afar. I like this thought very much. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath shuffles to one side, now a moving pile of leaves with snout and tail. The tail playfully whips at Malsaeth as he pries further, though her attention is grabbed by the bubbles. « We can go anywhere, but I belong here. » The snow, the Seven Spindles, everything. « Do you think that way about your home? » Oceans, black sands, endless summer rains. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers this question before showing a bright shining anchor, still hanging from a boat. « Mine is my anchor. We may go any place in the world, any place, and wherever he decides to be, whomever he decides to become, I am there no matter what, Rielsath. » It's a brief admission, but earnest in its reply, strangely uncharacteristic of him to reveal so much. « There is something peaceful of the ocean too, going far below, into the depths where no one can see you. » Rielsath> Malsaeth senses that Rielsath also considers, replying along the lines of that peaceful ocean and the peaks of her indomitable mountains. « We make sure the other doesn't go too far, » It is harder for the leaf-laden gold to say what it is that defines her relationship with Lujayn. Perhaps the darkness of lurking is making her sleepy, so far away from her usual sunlight, for Rielsath's voice is fainter and slower. « Find us when you are here. » An easy appreciation for Malsaeth's openness, by no means shooing him from her mind. He can stick around if he wishes to play with the leaves, though it might not be much fun if she's sleeping. Rielsath senses that Malsaeth considers this before agreeing, replying « Boundaries. And balance. These are two things mine tells me about constantly. » At his age, perhaps it's the right course of action from his rider. « We will, Rielsath. » comes his last remark, the clouds growing and growing until his presence is gone too, leaving those leaves and snow for the warm sunshine of Ista's tropical weather. |
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