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Quiet - Trial of the Shallows


DragonofTaters
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A loud thud broke the silence of the woods. Then, scrambling. A wild haired woman soon burst through the bushes, running. Cheeks red, white curls flying loose behind her as she ran. From what, who knew. Nothing followed her. No sound chased the woman. But she ran, through the dark, the silence, alone. Overhead, clouds passed over the moon briefly, bringing near total darkness to the pinewood. They moved on again, returning the moonlight. However, she never stopped. Never paused.

Heartbeat, footstep, breathe...heartbeat, footstep, breathe...don’t think, don’t think…

A mantra running through her head as she dashed between trees, jumping over bushes and small creeks. The woman couldn’t run forever though. Eventually, she tripped. A root sticking up, unseen, caught her foot and sent her sprawling.

Hush…

A breath. Long, ragged, desperate. She flipped over, electric blue meeting inky black of the forest roof and further, star speckled sky. 

Laying there on her back, she watched the nothingness above her. Her desperate running could not stop the racing thoughts that came rushing in with her fall. Clutching at her head, she rolled over quickly and staggered to her feet again. “Shut up, shut up shut up!” The desperate cry broke through the quiet. A thud as she collided forcefully with a tree. Then another. And another.

Peace returned with a final thud. A body hitting the soft earth. The woman lay unconscious and alone. Quiet filled the forest.

~*~

Blinking, the ‘fenn sat back on her heels. Hands covered with rock dust and stucco, they rested on the floor as she leaned back. Icy gaze traveled up over the smoothed section of wall. The quiet here was different than it had been in those woods. Here it was peaceful, soft, and warm. Not suffocating or overwhelming. 

Turning her focus away from the wall, the ‘fenn sorted through some pails of colored seaglass that sat nearby. Fingers raked through the colored stones, the light reflecting off them as they moved and clattered against each other. Forcing the intrusive thoughts, the memories, away, she picked a few of the stones from the bucket.

Getting to her feet, she spread a small amount of stucco on the stones before her. Then, carefully, with hands that trembled every so often, she began laying the stones in place. Piece by piece, row after row. A picture began to form. Darkness, chaos, a storm raging over an open sea. Beneath the ‘fenn’s bony fingers a depiction of pain and terror was coming to light. A ship trapped, doomed to be sunk by crashing waves.

 

Hours passed. She stayed there, working, as the light faded and evening fell. Through the night, the ‘fenn worked. Lanterns lit the passage, illuminating the mosaic as it grew with her efforts. Waves, large and threatening, were added, spreading across the length of the wall. Dark clouds and roiling sea foam combined serving to beat and batter the red and gold ship apart.  

The ‘fenn stepped back, leaning on the opposite wall. Gaze wandering over the mosaic, she frowned. The stormy scene didn’t sit well with her it seemed. Leaving her work for the moment, her leather boots hit lightly against the stone floor as she wandered down the hall. Out past the shrines and other mosaics, up behind The Sea Queen. She climbed over and past the depiction of their deity. Leaning out over the side, her eyes flitted back and forth. Below waves crashed against the solid rocks of the cliffside. The spray rising, misting over the woman’s pale form. 

She stood there for hours more. Watching, waiting. The rhythmic sound of the ocean’s chorus soothing her as she rested there behind the goddess’ form. Eventually, a pale light appeared on the horizon. The sun’s golden rays beginning to cut through the hazy light of early morn. She set her gaze on the horizon, watching the golden globe rise and alight the waves with its flaming reflection.

The woman smiled. A hushed murmur, a prayer, and she turned. Golden light stretching into the cavernous space, she headed back in. Back to the mosaic. A smile now graced her lips as she looked at the piece. A purpose in her movement as she reached for the lighter, more vibrant colors, as yet untouched. Quickly she set to work. The sea and sun greeting her that morn, filling the cavern with colors as she sought inspiration. Now the ‘fenn laid those same shimmering colors on the cold stone. Lighting the mosaic and hall with a scene of peace and contentment below the storm. 

It was quiet, and it was good.

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Nienna Telemnar, having been shown the work of Princess Idril's students the previous elven day, would take the time to pay witness to any completed mosaics within the cavernous sanctuary. Before each intricate work of art, she muttered a quiet prayer to Thalassa.

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