Wispings of a Raven III

[winterblood 11181]

Spoiler

 

 

A deep thrum of energy pulsed from the fractured tower that loomed over that profound library.  Zofiya felt the beating of that immortal heart vibrate through her whole being as she stepped into the Wizard’s study; despite the sheer weight and power that was this realm’s display, the Princess would not lose grasp of her ambitions.

 

 

W i s p i n g s   o f   a   R a v e n

III

The following is considered private, unless these pages are uncovered through RP.

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Jula ag Piov - 564 E.S.

 

Dragomir and I are to reach The Vale in about two days, should the weather be forgiving.  We’ve been traveling along the outskirts of the Ailmere for some time now, on this trek West.  Strangely, little has been uncovered amidst the snows beyond buried villages and the remnants of Dragonkin.

 

I half-wished I would have brought that curious stone my father had given me in our new study; he said it serves well in thwarting the efforts of the geists.  While it doesn’t ward them away fully, it at least has granted me some more respite in my sleeping.  Yet, despite it being so slim as a line of charcoal, I don’t think I’ve ever beheld anything with such a weight to it.  I hardly think Byvca would be agreeable in its vicinity too, given her nature.

 

I am left to wonder more, however, on how such a stone exists; never before have I come to hear, nor read of, something of this material being uncovered before our arrival to Aevos.  A grainy stone, capable of influencing stray spirits in such a manner to turn them slowed and repressed.  Some spirits almost seem wary of it entirely, yet such caution is different than the effect of aurum; it is drawing, embracing.  Akin to the dangerous lull brought on from the smothering cold.

 

Perhaps I ought to keep this stone in mind, for my studies of the continent.

 

.   .   .   .   .   .

 

My findings within The Vale have proven to be most interesting; The Shaman I had come to speak with provided me with much insight and displays - enough to fill my book for the Wizard, alongside my discoveries in the books I’ve managed to collect for my study.  Even beyond my investigations of Elementalism, I am rather pleased with what I’ve uncovered of the nature of dragons and their servants within that mossy library.

 

How ancient the path is, yet so twisted and foreign to its roots today.  The Nephilim had once served a purpose in defending humanity and safeguarding our fates, yet as time progressed - their efforts and intents turned more toward their corrupted Patron; Azdromoth, The Titan.  The Arch-Drakaar.  Firstly, it was to see him cleansed of the darkness which had come to consume his nature… then it turned to embracing his own Ruin.

 

The dark tales I’d grown up with of their sort stems from the natures stowed away within Tor’Praeth, or so that is what my father says.  Yet I’ve come to hear conflicting details of their kind, information which now swirls in a gray sea of uncertainty and mystery.  Does Azdromoth remain corrupted after having overpowered Xan in battle?  If anything is to be certain, it is that The Titan has turned evermore reclusive since his victory - and many of his servants remain self-serving in their paths of transformation.

 

I only pray my father shall not become as lost as Azdromoth’s most devoted followers.

 

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Vzemy ag Hynk - 564 E.S.

 

I hardly know if Dragomir can be a great fool at times, or only burns with the same curiosity as I do.  Perhaps it is a mix of both.  Yet, his devotion to seeing my dream fulfilled remains as constant as the stars in the sky.  I doubt I shall ever find a soul that is as dedicated and loyal as he is to me, and for that - I may call myself thankful.

 

Unlike others who I have come to regard as dear to me, my Blade has rarely ever come to make me feel conflicted over my gifts.  The compliments and admiration of others has always felt so turbulent; to regard me as some sacred mystery or alluring source of omens, yet their praise is quick to turn to judgement and pity on their tongues.  To them, I would always be something never to be understood.

 

I suppose I cannot blame those I am meant to guide for failing to see as I do, but it remains a bitter fact to accept.  Even if Dragomir shall never truly understand my Sight, nor the rest of my abilities, he still tries.

 

There remains my own kin; my blood; the rest of the Galahar line. . . Yet it’s felt as if we all struggle to walk upon the same path.  My mother has come to reject me for the greatness I pursue, accusing me of abandoning my roots for this wayward learning - yet it is for my roots that I seek to learn.

 

Even when I sought the support and aid from Sig, he was sooner to tell me of his passiveness with Fate and to see himself drifting away from my arms.  Kept only as siblings by blood and distant affection, and nothing more.  How is it that he could have wound up so blinded of his own power?  Of his own ability to grow out of these shadows, to command his steps for once?

 

Perhaps it is all he knows, for others to choose where his next step shall go; mother had always been keen to keep him close to her within the capital - and now the Patriarch guides his blade to the throats of demons.  When shall my brother ever be free to walk on his own?  So that he may never abandon me.

 

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Joma ag Umund - 546 E.S.

 

My sights are now to rest over The Divide, the vast expanse of plains, forests, and hills that sprawls out at the Ailmere’s feet toward the East.  This mystery feels different in comparison to the rest that the Wizard has set me upon; given the nature of this landscape and how my former research has built up for this investigation.

 

I’ve two names to pursue and question, before I may officially begin this quest.  But something nags at me, and it is Aleksandr’s condition.  He’s returned to the family changed after that expedition to the Mountain.  Whoever, or whatever, lurks at the top of that peak has marked him in some way.  Beyond the symbols Aleks had showed me blossoming across his back and shoulder.

 

It influences him, whispers into his ear; messages even unseen by myself carried on the wind for him to hear.  I can only wonder just how much this presence now weighs over my twin; surely, he is still himself to a degree - I shall never forget the scarring around his markings.  He sought to remove them.  But the Mountain’s talons have already gotten their hold on my brother, and shall seek to guide his steps one way or another.

 

Perhaps I am being overly wary, but I shall not shed myself of all caution.  This promise of Calamity, and seeking to watch after the steps of ‘the two hidden ones’ convinces me that there’s something lurking behind the veil of mystery that covers all of Aevos.  I do not think it is keen on being revealed, either.  Thalandir is one of the hidden, surely, but I’m lost on noting the other; perhaps it is his unnamed friend?

 

I must mind my steps ever more as I seek to unravel The Divide’s mystery, it seems.

 

Z.

 

[molly molly molly 1345]

Spoiler

incredible unbaed posting as usual, your narrative posts are such a treat to read ^_^