Clairvoyance [Wes & Aine]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by WesteriaVale, Dec 1, 2014.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Kale fidgeted on the boat as it rocked against the gentle swells. The Spire of Souls reached up into the sky, rivaling the vast mountain range he had sailed through earlier in the week. The trip from his homeland had taken over a week, and most of it upon the water. At least he had gotten over his sea sickness. He was meant to walk on land, not on a boat. Still, it was where he was. Waiting for permission from the Monks to dock. Men and women from his tribe moved about the deck with intent leaving him to fidget idly.

    Kale sighed and ran a hand over his black hair. The wind had tugged on it so much during the voyage, he had relented and tied it up, something only married men were allowed to do in his tribe. Yet no one said a word, even if a few of the women had laughed at him. Of course after a while they all wore their hair bound. One of the women moved Kale out of the way and positioned him further down the deck. Even here he'd be told to move soon.

    Kale tilted his head back and sighed. In a few more hours he'd be able to see, well, a seer, and he'd get one question to ask. Over the ensuing days he had perfected (or he believed he had) the question. How do I save my people? His father, the Chieftain and his Wife had considered, How do I end the plague? But in the end it was discarded for the new question. A question the tribe paid dearly to answer.

    "---ale. Kale!"

    Kale jumped as his name was shouted in his ear. His jacket he had slung over one shoulder slipped off and he fumbled for it before it could go overboard.

    "By the ancestors Fay. Did you have to yell?" Kale flushed as Fay smirked at him.

    "You were ignoring me." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're docked." She added on abruptly. She tossed her yellowed hair over her shoulder and lead the way off the boat.

    "Still." Kale tell her. "The yelling wasn't called for."

    Fay shook her head but didn't turn.

    "Really Fay." Kale Pressed

    "Would you rather I hit you?" Fay asked. She wouldn't touch a hair on his head. She was his betrothed and his protector. Both of which she took seriously. And so did he, most of the time.

    "Fine." Kale let it go as the neared the Spire. The darkened stone rose above them and was even more impressive up close. "Amazing." He said in a hushed whisper.

    Kale's small entourage was lead by a solitary Monk to a room. It was small, only room for a few people, and the four of them took up most of the room. Kale passed over the money when asked and was told to wait for the seer. After the Monk left they took up seats on the ground and waited.
     
  2. The sun had jumped over the horizon a few hours ago, but Elaraal's tiny room was still bathing in the darkness; courtesy of heavy curtains hanging over the windows. The air seemed to be equally heavy, enriching the chamber with charm of an average crypt. Old wooden furniture squeezed together to the point there was almost no free space left only supported the impression that any person suffering from claustrophobia would probably get a heart attack upon discovering this place, yet Elaraal didn't complain. Where other people saw nothing but desolation and emptiness she found her solace, her little island of calm amidst the chaos enveloping the outside world. It may not have been visually appealing from the objective standpoint, yet the austerity served as a balm on her nerves; it was a stark contrast to the ostentatious beauty of the Spire and for some strange reason, Elaraal found the lack of glamor oddly comforting. Maybe it was because her senses, often overwhelmed by otherworldly sights outsiders couldn't even imagine, simply yearned after some form of repose. She never remembered the visions themselves - those always dissolved the moment Faith released her mind from its firm grasp - yet the exhaustion stayed with her as an annoying reminder of the fact she had peeked behind the thin veil separating the presence from the future. To her endless frustration, this kind of weariness also didn't have the basic decency to disappear after few hours of refreshing sleep; in order to recharge herself, Elaraal had to liberate her mind from the ordinary thought patterns via meditation every day.

    It was best to take care of that need early in the morning, partially because she didn't want to walk around looking like a zombie, partially because monks usually had a colorful (and packed) schedule prepared for their proteges. That was the reason the blonde girl was sitting on the cold stone floor, her eyes firmly closed, and swaying in a rhythm nobody else could hear. She could feel the tension in her head going away the same way dirt leaves body after a long shower when a knock on the door disturbed her concentration.

    "Elaraal? Are you awake?" There was a hint of disagreement in the deep male voice - disagreement at the prospect of his young protege indulging in laziness - though you couldn't find a real reprimand even if your detector was somehow calibrated on overly high sensitivity. People with affinity for clairvoyance didn't exactly grow on trees, so monks treated them with respect for the most part. Elaraal opened one of her blue eyes in a questioning manner, her expression otherwise neutral.

    "It's almost insulting you dare to doubt it, Tarek," she stated calmly and stood up, stretching her limbs in the process. "So, what is going on? No, no, wait. Don't tell me. I'm currently not under the influence of Faith, but let me predict your reason for coming here. A new customer, eh?"

    "You know I don't like the term 'customer,' dear," Tarek reminded her gently. Of course they didn't; that implied the clergy was selling talents of those able to glimpse into the future for profit. While that depicted reality in a pretty accurate light, admitting they acted like a greedy merchants wouldn't exactly build them a public image they'd like to preserve, so they labelled it as 'helping find the truth to those willing to make great sacrifices' and similar nonsense. Elaraal didn't actually protest against this system - after all, they had to make money somehow and not having to serve every loser who came knocking on their door was actually quite convenient for her - yet that couldn't stop her from uttering an occasional snappy remark at expense of the questionable policy. Seeing the holy men and women squirm belonged amongst Elaraal's greatest pleasures.

    "Nevertheless, you're right. Someone has arrived to seek the guidance we offer, and you've been selected for the task." The noble phrase likely meant something like 'Nobody else is available' in translation, but Elaraal didn't want to bully Tarek any longer, so she merely nodded and let him guide her to the room where prophecies were received. "Greetings," she smiled at the guests, but absolute lack of warmth in that gesture made it obvious the young seer was just being polite. "Before we start, I'd like to explain how my gift actually works to avoid any misunderstandings. After I fall into a trance, you're allowed to ask me exactly one question. The limit is there because it's too draining to remain in this state for long. When formulating the question, don't be vague unless you wish to receive a vague, useless answer. Is there anything else you'd like to know or are you ready to hear what the future has in store for you?"
     
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.