[Cal] Words of Parting

(Note: This was rped on MUSH, for ease of reading and a better rp narrative overall. Doublespaced between poses. This will be mirrored on aschal; the log is now finished.)

A narrow path leads through a thickened woods at the base of Mt. Booars, winding slowly around the mountain base and disappearing beyond the clouds. The mountain itself is huge and hulking, with numerous caverns here and there as well as some dangerous looking ledges. One side of the mountain is quite sheer and seems to be a hotspot for landslides, while another side is thick with trees. A long and narrow bridge has been built between the two main peaks of the mountain, which, despite its fragile appearance has been hanging now for many years.

Morning dew still moistens the blades of grass along the mountain path, as the sun slowly rises in the sky. Birds in the trees start to chirp, while the sky's color fades from black into a light blue. Ripples slowly form in the air a few feet above the path, coalescing and growing faintly white for a moment until a blinding, heatless white flare erupts. A short woman in a pale white hood with golden symbols embroidered on its surface steps out of the temporal gate and looks about, managing to stay a few feet above the ground all the while.


A gust of wind razors through the straggling pine trees on a nearby bluff, bearing with it the austere bite of the colder climes on the heights; a touch of frost, no more than a breath, but a bitter, unforgiving chill that carries far down the mountainside, a sharp reminder of the wintry wilderness just above the timberline.

Rocks clatter their way perilously downslope as some creature approaches - some wild beast, perhaps, descending the steep flank of the mountain - but cresting the brow of the bluff is a figure distinctly human in silhouette, a slender individual in a ragged, frostbitten cloak drawn snug about his lean frame. A wisp of bright platinum hair escapes the confines of his cowl as he climbs down the face of the bluff, leaping from boulder to boulder with the ease borne of long experience; a figure familiar to many, perhaps, but not one often seen in the company of others.

To the woman then he turns upon drawing within hailing distance, and offers her a dry salutation, raising a black-gloved hand - "It's been a while, hasn't it, Audris?"


Drawing her free hand from the confines of her cloak, the hooded woman lowers her cowl. She releases her staff for a moment to draw back her long, silvery hair - quickly arranging it into a ponytail. The silver staff remains floating in the air, rotating slowly on it axis as if waiting for someone to grasp it. "Greetings, Caliah. Indeed, it has been a while," the tan-skinned woman manages to respond as she takes hold of her staff once again and starts to make her way through the chilly, humid air to the slim, platinum haired man.

"I came here searching for you, but not to try and remind you of your duties. That is the last thing on my mind. I suppose it would only be fitting to privately bid you farewell as a member of Aschal. We never were very friendly to others," she says, her face betraying no emotion. Audris stops and lands on a nearby rock, drawing in her chain mesh skirt before sitting on it.


Slim fingers brushing at his worn garments and the folds of his cowl, the lithe wanderer bends a wry glance at the shorter siriyu woman, frost crackling in his garb and silvery hair. "And here I thought you hadn't much regard for the sentimental," he utters lightly.

When he does doff the sable hood, letting it slip from his fingers to settle about his shoulders, it is to disclose a fine-featured countenance, familiar indeed: that of the current Tignaith of the Aschal. Although the chiseled planes of her features are even gaunter than when the other had seen her last, the skin ice-pale as ever over the fine bones of her face, the unyielding steel in that glance is little diminished; if anything, it only appears to have been tempered keener with the passage of time. "There's not much here that still holds my interest. We've fought on the behalf of the clan and the people we protected for so long that I'd forgotten what it feels like to be free...I thought perhaps I would die here, but it doesn't seem the case. Maybe we did our duty a little too well."

Lifting a speculative eye to the slopes of the mountain, the tall woman shrugs dismissively. "Have you found any answers on your travels?"


"No, none at all. Perhaps the questions themselves have changed as well. We used to dwell on how to keep the clan functioning as a group. These days, I spend my time focusing on spells that would enable me to travel far away from these lands, where the gods are nothing but powerful beings with personalities no less fickle than your average Serian."

"There's something different about you," Audris exclaims as she turns to regard the other individual. "Age, perhaps? For that matter, I reckon I would only be as sentimental as an aloof mercenary that had decided to get married."

She closes her eyes and exhales deeply, blowing a fine mist into the frosty morning air. Audris again lets her staff float in the air and leans back slightly upon the embedded rock, supporting herself with her arms. "There's so much more that I want to tell you. Did I mention that I accepted to Atrius' offer? I became his so-called pet for a while, for lack of purpose. Do you ever feel the same way?"


"I never put much store in societal norms and traditions. You know me." The slender swordswoman sees fit to give a slight, nonchalant shrug, the tattered cloak she'd tossed carelessly over her clothing shifting with the movement. A shadow passes over her expression, faint and fleeting; her gloved hand grasps the scabbarded blade at her hip as she runs her thumb over its well-worn hilts. "Nor was I very literal. I do what I think is best for those concerned; I might have backed myself into a corner in that respect, but I never said I would change for anyone. Time should strengthen you rather than weaken, at least within reason."

"When Aschal decided to remain neutral and govern its own, much changed within the clan that I wasn't willing to acknowledge. At least they were never hypocrites, like the fat, leisure-loving citizens in the cities to the West, growing corrupt and indolent on their riches and the protection of their fickle idols. Aschal's strength isn't merely in its numbers; for me it's faded, and there's no sense in mourning what's already gone."

A snap of steel breaks the flow of her speech as the pale-haired woman partly unsheaths her sword, inspecting the untarnished length of blade exposed to her scrutiny. "You do know that I never judged anyone on their tastes or what they preferred when it came to their...fleshly pleasures." Her thin lips curve in the mildest of smirks. "I only think maybe I didn't allow myself much leeway in that."


"If you would care to know, I view the dagahasi as beings to be toyed with. Their religious beliefs and self-confidence often cloud their judgment, leaving us leeway to manipulate them," Audris smirks a little, then shakes her head while shifting slightly atop the large, uncomfortable rock.

"As you've just said, the past cannot be brought back. What do you plan to do after we disband? The answer to that question honestly intrigues me more than your opinion on the fate of our lands."

She pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts, and turns away from Caliah to gaze over the expansive horizon while the sun's rays extend across it. " I do not suppose this is the right time to say this, but to me Aschal is currently composed of you, Tylendel and myself. I've believed that all along, and that is the reason why I've refused to devote my efforts towards the clan's well-being. The clan I knew died a long time ago. Close-minded, I know. Am I being hypocritical? What ever it had been, it has kept me alive this long."


The cool, inscrutable gaze that Caliah slants at her companion is unmoved, unchanging. "'Cut your losses and you save yourself much grief,'" she quotes with acerbity, resheathing her sword in a single fluid motion and releasing the hilt. The sliver of diamond dangling from her ear refracts the pale rays of the sun as she turns to regard the vista stretched before them. "You aren't much more hypocritical than I have been for the past few years. What I accomplished that I could claim was for the good of the clan seemed more for the sake of accomplishment itself than any sense of altruism. I can't rest for long without setting myself a challenge; I think you out of everyone else knows that most of all."

She gestures vaguely at the thin white line of surf, the blue of the Sea of Lorvalis curving along the Harbour. "Maybe I should set sail like Laux and the rest. Not to find this...'Valley of Fire,' or to chase some sailor's myth. Travel the edges of the known lands and chart my own fate. I'm tired of being dictated by obligations and laws that I've no hand in creating. I have a good many years ahead of me."


"What of Kaien?" Audris turns to ask, almost at once. "What of me," Audris continues in a barely audible whisper, her voice trailing off into the stale morning air.

"More than once, I've grown desperate enough to try and imagine faces of people who I've never seen to instantly visit in the hope of accidentally stumbling upon some other faraway land. As much as it saddens me to think of our responsibilities towards the people of the East and the turmoil, however minor, that a new government may bring..."

"Do you believe that there's a point in your life where you wish nothing more would someday arrive?" She suddenly asks in a burst of curiosity, nonchalantly drumming her fingers on the rough stone below her.


Silence then, meets the enchantress' words, that then might be taken for lack of surety but for the ever-so-slight smile that fleets across Caliah's lips, so faint as to seem imagined. "I never said I wished to go by myself," she answers with a trace of her old humour, raising her head so that her profile is clearly silhouetted in the early morning sunlight. "If you want to walk the same paths, I've no intention of objecting."

"We've taken on responsibilities far beyond what we were meant to shoulder, Audris. Even when those we worked for turned their backs on us or thought we were undermining them for our own ends." The swordswoman's mouth twists at the irony of that, her cut-crystal tones rife with caustic mockery. "Isn't it time to indulge in our own dreams? They've been constantly spent and wasted on others' flimsy ideals. It's time for us to go; we're not needed any longer, bitter as it is to realise."

The lean young woman angles her gaze to the siriyu beside her. "Or learn, if you would. Would it be better if you thought of it that way?"


The siriyu merely shakes her head in response. "While you may find it bitter, I find it refreshing to finally be free. So free in fact that I haven't the slightest idea where we're headed. If we do manage to establish ourselves, we may not have the ideas of someone such as Laux to build upon." Audris gazes up towards the clear sky above the Lorvalian Sea in the horizon.

"This is not a land where one can indulge in dreams. Nothing pleases the gods more than wanton displays of power or ideals, and up there, they are among equals. The only question that remains is the fate of our lands when we depart."

"Have the past few decades been a complete waste of time? I honestly do not know whether to curse fate or thank it for the average siriyu life span."


"I don't feel any regret...anything, over the time I devoted to Lorvalis and the East. I meant whether it might be bitter for -you- in particular. I knew what I was doing when I committed myself to one thing or the other, the risks it entailed, the regrets I might entertain. I've learned much. So I don't consider it a loss, if anything." Inflectionless and dispassionate, the platinum-haired human's voice carries clear and unwavering on the cold mountain air, echoing faintly down the walls of the steep trail. "The only thing I regret is that I didn't quite spend as much time as I should have with the people that mattered to me. Even if they were...few, admittedly." She smiles mirthlessly.

"The only times I bent to gods' whims was when it was for the sake of the clan. They've left me alone to pursue what I wished - because what would a mere human like myself matter to them when said human cares nothing for the power they wield over the lives of mortals? They are not infallible." Stirring from where she'd casually stood on the trail, Caliah steps onto a rocky promontory overlooking the slope, one of her boots lapping the edge, her wrist slung over the hilts of the sword girt at her hip. "I give respect where it's due; if my dreams and desires don't pose a threat to them and their machinations, then I'm free to do as I please, aren't I? As I have been for the past decade. There's no reason not to think that."

Long moments pass in silence, and a faint exhalation of breath slips from her lips. "We can give the land or sell it. Ask the people of the Harbour what they wish; I daresay none of them would prefer to be under Seria's rule, after what Seria's done to them."


"I must admit to considering returning the land to Seria, after seeing what the clan's done for itself. In fact, I've already spoken to Randolf about it - though I only did so because I wanted to see his face when I suggested it. You have brought up a valid point. The people of the east after all should take precedence over wanting to slap the clan in the face before I depart," she smiles for a moment and looks down the beaten path, eyes glinting with cold finality.

"There is not much more to be done, other than confirm what everyone expects. Among the current factions, who do you think is most deserving?" Audris turns towards her companion. "I am no longer as informed, though I know of the Ophidia's revival and the Empire's demise. They had it coming," she smirks.


A spark flares to life in the tinderbox that Caliah keeps with her as she idly lights one of her cigarillos, a thin, fragrant streamer of smoke curling slowly into the air, the lit end glowing brightly with each deep breath she draws. "I didn't know you felt that strongly about the...troubles we'd had within the clan itself," the tall woman comments diffidently, tossing aside the ember she'd used. It skitters over the rough stone, flaming briefly and sputtering out. Sighing with satisfaction, she leans back on her heels, straightening her shoulders, her narrowed eyes shadowed and contemplative past the veil of smoke wreathing her. "Factions rise and fall, the reign of one never lasts forever. I'm only surprised that it came so soon. The Ge'yivs are lost, at least I believe so. I've no love for the Ophidia, and you know what I think about the Ge'siri."

Clearing her throat, she angles a wry look at Audris over one shoulder. "I suggest we give the Keep to no faction, but someone you trust that none would dare think of assailing in war. You have the welfare of the people to consider of course; if I wanted to make things interesting, and I hadn't that to think about, I'd sell the keep to the Ophidia. Otherwise, choose a fitting Lord or Lady and entrust Lorvalis to them. We owe the land that much."


"Do you have anyone in mind?" Audris' eyes flicker with faint, playful amusement. "You were the only one I had trusted to take care of the Keep. Among the more prominent names these days, I'm afraid to say that perhaps the spirit of the gardener in Frelugnya may do a better job. Even if he is assailed, he would never die."

The siriyu's hair flutters about as a mild breeze blows past. Pausing for a moment, she produces a blue tinted chalice from her bag and takes a few sips from it before placing it back, on its side. Strangely enough, Audris' movements neither cause the water to spill, nor ripple. "Although I did have problems with the clan, I also want to put the past behind me. We never did take the Serians seriously, and we probably never will."


The slight wind tosses back the travelworn cloak hanging from Caliah's shoulders, the ebony fabric billowing in the gust. If there had been any hint of melancholy in the warrior's tone and demeanour, it seems now entirely absent; rather, her words are clipped and manner precise, as if she'd long steeled herself and found lingering needless. "There are a few I have in mind, yes. You wouldn't object if we spoke with them before finalising anything else, I assume. I'm eager to be done with it as I believe you are." With that, she draws on the cigarillo a last time before pitching it over the edge of the bluff, watching the tiny red ember spin in its descent until it's lost to sight. Turning on her boot-heel, she leaps down from the boulder, landing lightly on the ground.

Those catlike, violet eyes mirror nothing, as cold as they had ever been."I've always been restless, never satisfied with anything I ever worked for or managed to succeed in. In light of this that seems to have stood me in good stead. I learned not to expect too much."

Passing Audris, she pauses only to tilt a discerning eye at the tanned siriyu woman, slowing her pace as she draws level with her. "I never knew what I was capable of until I undertook what I saw as my duty to the clan. It's given me a chance to test my skills and to pit my wits against many a foe. For that I think I should be glad."


"I on the other hand made the clan's success equal in importance to my own life, for a while. I suppose all of us seek a comfortable niche in life and the clan has proven to be anything but that. If anything, I am glad that I met certain individuals while speaking on behalf of it, or leading it."

Audris nods her head suddenly as if she was done thinking something over and meets the gaze of the other woman. "Your restlessness amuses me. Because of this, I would like to continue watching you. Assuming your forthcoming acceptance, I would like to hand Lorvalis to you. Pragmatism is one of your virtues, and oftentimes I act in ways that I know are foolish despite knowing the outcomes. Do what you wish with the land, and I will await you at the docks. Should you wish my opinions, you know how to reach me."


"As the philosophers say, that is the legacy of man."

For all that those words seem cynically said, dry amusement tinges Caliah's voice. Holding the siriyu's gaze a moment, the slim, pale woman inclines her head minutely in acknowledgement - respect surprising, it might seem, from one so familiar - yet the gesture is calm and without condescension. "I never claimed to be anyone worth observing, but if that is what you wish --"

Drawing up her cowl with black-clad fingers so that only her gaze and the light curve of her lips can be glimpsed in its depths, the swordswoman draws back from the trail and into the straggling pine trees fringing the path, her steps light and without sound as she fades into the shadows beneath the low boughs. "There will be many more moments like this one, Audris. Until then keep safe, and think of the future."

Then the trail is empty but for the solitary figure of the siriyu, the air cold and silent.