The Binding of the One without a home and that Who

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Deva, #fafad2, solid"]

Deva's burnt eyes saw little of the transformation that occurred in front of her. She felt the change in the air. She felt the shift in the being or whatever it was that Merrek was meant to be. Yet, the details eluded her. "My apologies, strange one. What I am asking you to do is to allow me to cut into your skin and draw some of what you are made of so I can examine it further." She was very stark with her words at that point, her expression somewhat hinting on the fact she hoped that her words were clear the first time so she would not need to speak so openly, but it could not be helped. "Life forcers understand the threads. Healers mend the body. But shamans draw on the physical to understand the weaknesses, strengths and threats of a being." Indeed, shamans where the hunters. Like predators they caught prey for food but also study to know how to exploit the weakness or strength, how to eliminate potential danger. They stood next to life forcers in defense of the village. Deva herself was a living proof of the sacrifices, hardships but also invaluable work that protected this settlement.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]Strange One… That name hasn't been used in a long time; most of the realities he would visit would have more complicated names, or ones that made him a god or an otherworldly entity of power. She called him something… Normal. The Mage understood what she was asking for, formally ready to do something most would probably consider insane or suicidal. Merrek kept his warm, welcoming smile as he then approached Deva. "Then I will give it to you." Merrek said softly, his hand gripping on his robes. The threads moved, and with it, the clothing on his skin shifted through the fabric of reality and into another world, allowing the Mage to simply pull them off without much effort. They were tossed aside, leaving the man in nothing but a simple pair of beige pants and heavy boots.

"I do not know your sensitivity to physical bodies…" Purple threads manifested from his skin around his hand. They slowly formed into a simple dagger, made of an odd, dark obsidian material. "… But if you need to cut me open or take off a piece of my body…" The dagger's point was set over his own chest. "…Then do not be shy. You have my full permission to do with me as you please." Another permission for her to take what she wanted from him. In fact he wasn't afraid of it at all. "… I think the heart of most beings is the best way to understand those you hunt, no?" Speculations; the swordsman would know a lot more about that. He reached down to grab her hand and bring it to the dagger's handle. "This dagger can cut through my bones without problem without killing me."[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Deva, #fafad2, solid"]

Once more, she hardly saw the shifting in front of her, but from the assumptions, the feeling of her spine tingling, Deva could safely assume what Merrek was doing. Upon feeling the dagger pressed into her palm, a frown settled on her features. "Not out here." She uttered. Despite being an elder, shaman's study of insides of beings was looked at strangely by other villagers, almost unfavourably by healers. It was not cosidered unclean and the closest word to others' reaction could be squeemish...not only in the physical ways. Either way, it was prefered by many for shaman's to conduct the tasks of their profession indoors, or out of sight.

Hence, Deva entered her hut, keeping a hold of the dagger. The inside wasn't dark as one would expect. It did not suggest on dark arts of alchemical studies and mixing of potions to determine the nature of things. No dead animals laid around with buzzing flies and maggots. No jars with conserved organs, pieces of animals and such could be seen either. No. Deva's hut was one big, personal library of notes and hand written books. Windows larger than in Satyra's hut let in the day light. Any scent was absent however. The Elder kept walking further, into a separate room. That was the one where blood soaked wood and stones resided, darker in shade as they were hit by sun. It was a place that needed to be cleaned regularly after each examination. Yet, it was a simple room. Only one large table for any size of animal, a chest on the side and a table next to it with various tools were the only items found in this back room.

"Lay down." Deva spoke simply, fingers brushing over the top of the table as she rested her spear against the wall.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]He should have realized that doing so in such a public manner wouldn't have happened, especially considering there were children around probably looking at the two from a distance. The Mage bowed his head, responding back to her. "Then please, lead me in." He was sure there was somewhere he could lie down for her to begin her inspection of his insides… It was unfortunate that, regardless of the methods used, there might be little to know from his physical form; the nature of his body was only something to manifest the consciousness of the mage. However, she might discover something even he didn't know; it wouldn't be the first time.

The mage followed through into the hut, and what he expected to see was actually completely wrong. He had expected what shaman and witches of other worlds did, with their close connection to nature and to the world of the living, there were always the presence of physical, organic items, such as heart, talons, claws and so on and so forth. Instead, he was presented with a room of knowledge conserved by hand from the Elder with him, and probably that of other Elders. This fascinated the Mage, wishing he would have time to read through these, as they probably contained information that could help him understand this world. His eyes wandered the room, though he made no sign of reaching for any of the manuscripts; he would be given permission if the Elder so desired.

They soon walked into another room, and this one was even more interesting. Odd, wasn't it? There was so much more history here… All the animals that must have passed, all the interesting findings. It was another area he could explore the past with his magic… For now though, he would do as he was asked. He slide himself onto the stone slab and relaxed himself. This would be an interesting event for sure. He turned a looked at the woman. "So much history in here… I wonder what you've discovered within these walls." A small laughter left him.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Deva, #fafad2, solid"]

"Yes, a lot has been discovered here." Deva spoke as her fingers ran over the blade carefully. It was unfamiliar to her so she needed to get to know it if she were to use it effectively. "I wish I could put my findings of you in a book." Alas it sounded as if she couldn't, the reasons open for interpretation or question. She kept examining the dagger even as she made her way towards the table. The material felt no different, yet there must have been a reason for Merrek to give it to her. Then she dropped the flat side of the blade onto the stone like an expert piano tuner and the ring that sounded surprised her to say the least. She wasn't sure whether it hurt her ears, or confused her thoughts. Either way, it was not pleasant for some reason. Perhaps, because she could not see it properly. Just what was it made off? Her thumb carefully ran sideways across the sharp side just like one would to test the sharpness.

"You placed the blade against your chest. You suggested on taking your heart. Are you saying you can survive without it?" The Elder questioned curiously, with legitimate disbelief in her words as her fingers finally found their way to Merrek's arm. Those were blind man's fingers, seeing through touch as she ran them over his skin and body, mapping it. The lightness yet thoroughness of the motion was of experience and intrigue. Deva was fully seeing him for the first time and did not hide it at all. She was searching him for clues just like she did with other animals that she had on this table, yet her hand ran over his shoulder and down his chest almost like Satyra's hand - gentle but with purpose. For now, the blade laid idle.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The Mage truly just let himself relax and take in his surroundings; it wasn't often he'd get to see the inside of a shaman's den, especially not of an Elder who's art differed from the typical shamans. The discovery they must have made within this very room could have explored areas of knowledge even people of other realities wouldn't dare try. Some have had the opportunity to do so, though most didn't see it fit to experiment and try.

He leisurely look back to the Elder with a curious look on his face, one which she probably couldn't see. The mention of he no able to copy her findings down sounded odd to him... Was it because she was blind? Or simply there were thing she did not wish to share with the others? Maybe it was best for him to ask. "And why wouldn't you be capable of taking it down?" He asked with curiosity and intrigue. Certainly, the reason had to be reasonable; she was an Elder after all.

The particular ring from the blade had been ignored by the Mage, who then passed on to explaining that which he had said. "My physical body is more of a manifestation when I was created, to have a physical connection to the realms. Mere physical wounds and changes will not take my life..." Nor could he truly 'die'... "... And, the magic that makes me will sustain me even if you take me completely apart, muscles, bone, skin, organs, vital organs, everything. It is why you can do as you please with me."

The hands that traveled his body were certainly not a touch Merrek could ignore too casually. His body would react as most would; with goosebumps in some areas, created by the gentle touch, along with a soft sigh of satisfaction. His body would naturally emanate this pure, but no overwhelming sensation of magic pulsating through him... made more so clearer with the touch of his markings. Two areas, however, held something off, or maybe just different. Upon both his shoulders, there were slight indents in his skin, invisible to the naked eye. Following them would offer only the possibility of these markings being strange symbols of another language. Otherwise, even with the natural magical energy of his body and the indent; the rest acted like a normal human body.

"Do be shy to do thing that would normal kill a man. I will suffer no ill consequences."[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Deva, #fafad2, solid"]

]Her hands kept exploring his body. Her fingers felt as if getting soft pins and needles. The sensation of magic she felt everytime she used it herself, but in this case she was the receptor not the cause. It made her own hair stand up along her arms in response to this phenomena until her fingers stopped over the inscriptions. It was surprise that lifted her eyebrows. She did not expect to feel something that the villager and Deva herself had inscribed in their skins. "I asked the shaman youth that usually takes the notes to to search the forest for the spiked vine. After all, whatever I find about you, I am afraid the young mind would only get confused." Deva explained, her fingers starting to brush across his skin with more purpose - over the inscriptions and his skin, following the path of the line, causing a fresh frown to settle into her features. The incriptions felt...familiar. Like those everyone in the village had, yet they also felt different. There was already so much to note, so much to remember. And whilst the remembering would not be an issue for Deva, she did wish to have her sight back so she could at least do the note taking herself. Perhaps in time, this world would be ready for the secrets of this man, whatever they may be. "So you're immortal and eternal. Is that what you're saying?" Deva questioned after his words, immediately getting an association with the fire god that Satyra brought in not so long ago. Was this another higher being? Should she then cut into it like any slab of meat? "Also, how did you get the inscriptions? They are awfully familiar." Deva spoke, frowning even more in concentration. She could swear she remembered seeing them somewhere, whether with her eyes before blindness took over, or with her fingers.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]This was a little different from Satyra's touch now, as even though the Elder ran her fingers along the inscriptions of his skin, they did not spark as strongly as when the Sorceress would touch it. However, the magic still seemed to react to the touch of whoever put their fingers on it. If Merrek had to guess why, it probably because the Elders and maybe a few or the majority of this village, manipulated magic naturally and it was reacting to the exposed veins of magical energy. The Mage wasn't uncomfortable at all with these sensations, maybe even going as far as enjoying the foreign touch.

The explanation of the young man's absence should have been obvious, but yet, it almost felt like a wasted opportunity. Who knew what they could have discovered... He wouldn't say anything about it. The youth may simply not be ready, as she said. The following question, however, he could answer without much fear or doubt. "I became eternal and immortal after a series of unfortunate events, yes. I was created to live far past a millennia... Ah yes, it might be important to say I was created, not born as of most humanoids." This information was shared with little worry of what they might think of him. At this point, it may be best to simply answer honestly.

The markings... Now it may be that Satyra had not wished to speak to the Elders, but Merrek didn't want to lie about it while she was trying to figure him out. Again, he would speak with little hesitation, especially since they were alone. "I got them after I shared a night of passion with Satyra..." He stated without any shame. "... It is when the life threads that compose my life and the magical energy that runs through me joined with the threads that run through her... Satyra's inscriptions also changed slightly when it happened." There was no holding back from the Mage.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Deva, #fafad2, solid"]

Created... What an odd idea. He was meant to be woven out of nothingness like humans by god? Constructed like nature and habitats by man? It was a strange concept to think there was a force able to create a man who she could feel was charged with power, and who would so freely offer himself for exploration. Deva would have thought he'd be a rarity, a one of experiment that was successful and hence he'd protect himself. Perhaps, she was wrong and it brought her brows closer together for a moment, whilst her fingers ascended up his arm, following the line of the inscription. The moment he explained the origin of his inscriptions a lot of things clicked in place like puzzle pieces, or a picklock stealing its way into understanding. Her jaw hardened under the realization as if conflicting thoughts ran through her mind. Satyra wasn't hers to guide, but she was dear to many people, Deva included. Having tied herself to anyone in this manner... No, Satyra was truly foolish to have allowed that. Did she even realize just how far she has removed herself from her people? How much of an oddity she became herself?

Silence hang in the air, charged with conclusion quietly reached yet kept secret and Deva slowly continued her seeking across his body. Once she reached his shoulder, she felt yet another set of inconsistencies. "And those?" She questioned simply with little overt regard to his previous answers.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The silence… was certainly welcomed. It was a sign that simply came to acknowledge that Deva was deep in thought. Questioning, realization; all good things to happen when exploring. Though this silence did not last as long as he would think, especially considering the shivers that came when her fingers ran over the mark; his brand, his imprint of creation. His hands tightened for a brief moment, though rapidly, he relaxed with a long, soft sigh. "They are my name…" He started gently. "… When I came to be, I turned from a mass of magical energy into a being, mimicking the appearance of the one who came and acknowledge me… They represent my name in a dialect long lost… And represent that I am unique, a brand to make me different from all other… beings?" The way the Mage spoke of them; it was clear that he did not truly understand all of its meaning, but simply that it was a mark that represented his name, at the least.

"It's theorized it makes me sentient, even makes my soul that I have stay within myself… Though, I can't truly tell…" The man's eyes gained a little light as they opened, looking towards the elder. "… You might be able to find something about it I do not know." The man smiled a little more widely before he closed his eyes once more. "There is no finer feeling than the thrill of discovering something new… Makes me feel as if life hasn't thrown everything at me."[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Deva, #fafad2, solid"]

It was a name. How peculiar. Her fingers ran over the mark as he spoke. Over and over again, she was feeling every single detail, clearly memorising it. Perhaps, she was even hoping it might remind her of something, but unfortunately it didn't. Not yet. If and when Deva would travel to the Sanctuary of Knowledge, she'd consult the books and other Elders there. Unless Satyra's mother, the representative of the village stationed in the vast building of wisdom, would return before then, in which case, Deva would not need to leave. But already, the idea of something being created from the very threads of what she and others could manipulate, it presented her with fascination as well as concerns. Magic of any kind could be manipulated. Magical things even more so.

On the cool exterior of her intense studying, much was happening in Deva's mind. Mainly the fact that he was not a man by a definition she knew, but some sort of powerful conjuration, a thing almost. For without the mark, by his theory, he would lose his sentience. Well, that changed a lot. Suddenly, she straightened her back from the slightly hunched over posture. It was not abrupt as it was decisive. She felt him create things out of nothing and something told her that he'd be able to preform even the following, much simpler task. "I need you to be the scribe for the day. Your powers, they should be able to write in my journal anything I need to note. I feel, there will be too much to remember, even for me."

Outside, the sun was slowly descending from its position high on the azure arch. It was still couple of hours to go before dusk, but some hunters were already returning. Yet, something stopped them mid-way in their tracks and even children playing on the edges of the village paused in what they were doing and stared in amazement. The source of the children's awe, and adult's apprehension was one of their own in the middle of the field - Satyra. In her amazement with the feeling of magic, the flow of it and the feeling of immense connection to the nature, it appeared the grass has grown around her and swayed in the air like anemone on the bottom of the sea. In fact, a good circle around her appeared to be influenced by capabilities far beyond anything a life-forcer should be able to do. She was doing something to the life threads of the plants. Something, she didn't entirely understand herself.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The sudden change of posture had the Mage look towards the elder with many questions as to why she reacted like so. There was no need to ask; she requested to write down everything she would need to. No words could come to answer her; only the actions that followed. A slow, calm motion of his arm followed with the movement within the threads. Given he did not know where or which would be her journal; he would go on to create his own. From the pores of his skin came misty, transparent-like weaves of purple strings, following a serpentine movement through the air. They joined into a single sphere, with a core ball of magical energy and strands evaporating on its surface.

It took but seconds for it to change its shape; slowly, the inner core stretched itself out into a cube like form and then compressed itself. From there, the colors and material the form took became that which resemble a large tome with old parchment paper within. Soon, the purple threads that remain would vanish back into the void it came from, though it was easy to tell part of it returned to the man who still laid on the floor.

Along with this, the sensation of magic could be felt outside of these walls, one performed from none other than the woman who had bonded with him. Though it seemed only faint to him, the power that seeped into the plant life was something to behold to the mortals. All the man could do was smile and bathe in this sensation… However, he was asked something of him.

"If you wish to keep whatever you found silent, then you must only touch the tome… Don't fight its magic; it only seeks to transcribe whatever you wish for it to keep. The engravings will continually be taken down as you feed it information… And whenever you want its magic to stop, simply demand it to stop." His arm lowered back down, as did the tome, dropping onto a surface convenient for the elder to reach. "There are many pages, more than it looks to have… I am sure it will be useful tool for you."

The mage tried to relax once more, taking in a few breaths.[/fieldbox]