The Binding of the One without a home and that Who

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

As it so often was with child's mind its attention spans over various things and never stayed on one for too long. Toman heard the mage description and the remark on the inscriptions, but his mind only possessed the awareness of it for so long before the cards appeared. A gasp of fascination left the boys lips and Satyra has never seen the boy's eyes being wider with wonder. Not even when he first heard the story about Seedlings. Toman nodded as Merrek remarked about the Bird of Fire and nodded some more about the man who came to the village before being tamed, but it was clear that his mind was capable of only seeing one thing - the trick. Clearly, his whole world was now the colourful cards and when the Dealer made them disappear another gasp of shock pushed past Toman's lip before it was followed with a gleeful squeal when the card passed in front of his eyes as it fell down. That magic trick that Merrek committed to has caught the attention of a few people around, looking on with the same kind of intrigue but calmed by their age. Some even breaking into a wide smile at the end as Toman held the card high above his head, running back to his home hut, hollering on top of his lungs that he has got a magic card. Satyra's hand came down on Merrek's back and rested there. Joyful smile on her lips, heart fluttering in her chest at seeing the youth so free, glimmer of personal memory shivering in her eyes. "Continue like this, Merrek, and by the sun set the whole village will take you as their own." The sorceress warned him in jest with undertone of amusement.Joyful sparks in her eyes turned to his bronze for a moment as Toman disappeared from her view. Merrek seemed to mix with her people much easier than Faireheart. There was no fear from them that he might unintentionally wreak havoc in their settlement. Whilst they still accepted the God, they always kept their distance. With Merrek, they accepted him just as easily as Satyra has.

"Well, I think we better get these last few bundles delivered." Satyra remarked after a moment as if waking from a short day dream, remembering her own duties. Something about Merrek, now that they were not in the mentoring setting, has resonated well with the sorceress. Now that she did not see him as her mentor, her heart seemed to beat just a little faster any moment he has done something small but admirable, or even when she saw the shades of bronze in his eyes knowing what laid beneath. She saw him in a different light, almost like the pulsating colours of adoration that they both came to know. Those lights and their brilliance seemed to shine ahead at future where hardship would be conquered and sadness quelled with a simple touch, smile or word.

Their next stop was with a shaman. A younger man of tanned skin speaking of days spent outside and scars as testimonies to the crude nature of his role. He was less eloquent than Pasia, clearly a being of silence. Also alone for now, but there were talks about union with another shaman girl. Talks, however, stayed talks until the two have decided themselves to be tied together. The man accepted the herbs with a few words of thanks, informed Satyra that he would give her a fresh cut of meat from his recent hunt later on that day. The shaman's regard for Merrek was indifferent. They might have shared an acknowleding nod, but aside from such, he showed no further interest in the outsider, instead taking the herbs back into his dwelling. Satyra did remark to Merrek as they walked away that the man has always been like that even as a child. Quiet contemplation seemed to be his strength, just like it was Deva's. The last delivery was to a healer. Another male. By then the reason for very few children in her tribe might have been obvious. Aside from limited resources to support large families, there were more men the women in the clan. This healer, however, had a child and a partner. Yet, his daughter was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, her as well as couple other younglings have ran over to Toman on a whisper of a magic card. Satyra could only regard that with a knowing smile before bidding even that man a good bye.

By then, sun has risen almost to the highest place on the azure arch. Elders were nowhere to be seen and no one has spoken of them but Satyra did not doubt that they'd ask to speak with her and Merrek alike at some point today. Before then, however, she could dare to disappear, couldn't she? Strength has slowly returned to her body and she could feel her magic awakening even if the sense of imbalance was still present. Hence, her golden-blue hues settled on Merrek with a hint of an awaken idea, a realization that dawned on her. "I remember you coming once before, Merrek. You didn't stay long, you didn't even come to the village but I remember wanting to show you something." Satyra wondered if he remembered too, eyes seeking within his at any trace of remembrance, but whether she'd see it there or not, she would take his hand with scruples, nonetheless, and lead the way out of the village and towards the forest where by the tree line a great white beast still rested on the ground. "I'll show you today. Make up for a lost opportunity in the past." Satyra said determindedly but with a free spirit that might have rubbed on her from Toman as thrill ran through her body. Knowing how attuned Merrek was to magic, Satyra was certain he would find this place delightful and she wanted to see that small smile of his widen, those eternal eyes having a hint of awe. She wanted to make him feel things that he could recall in his bad times. She wanted him to remember her and her homeland once she would no longer be around.​

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[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The words that carried for his opinion of the Fire God would only go into one ear and out the other. Merrek had noticed this only by seeing the eyes of the young man fixated on his agile hands, trying to simply perform a few sleight of hand tricks with the aid of his magic… The wonder in his eyes returned many memories of his past, and those that were still appeasing too. It was the same expression the apprentices would show when he performed simple magical spells that had just arrived to study magic. He was much young though, yet held the same fascination to it. His enthusiasm only came to bolster his smile as he ran off with that one card with the reflecting colors. In reality, it was just an illusion that wasn't supposed to last too long, but with a single changing of the weaves, it had become real, a lovely card which would be a small charm for the boy to keep. It would be made of a thin and flexible crystal which would change its colors depending on how the light would it, and he would leave the mystery to the young boy to discover.

His eyes had stayed on the little man until a hand was placed upon his back. His eyes went to meet that of the person behind him, in which he saw the glimmer of joy within. Her words only came to widen his lips to his cheeks as he then stood. Merrek had an incredible talent for adapting to new places, and he guessed this would be no different than entering a new world and going along with the flow of their reality. "If it were to happen so soon, I would not argue against it." He spoke softly before she put them back on the right track. They had a few deliveries more deliveries that needed to be done, and so he walked along her side, bathing in the sun's rays. In a strange way… Merrek already felt at home, only missing the mages and his family. The thought didn't even really bother him, as they were happy memories.

The two tribesmen they have met were interesting characters all by themselves, even though one of them spoke but very little. Though his had caught on about the little children compared to the size of the village, and also the population of males really did seem to be low… It was strange to think it would be like so, but he had seen many other realities which too suffered from the lack of a sex. The talk of the magic card certainly had the man grin like a fool, right as they left their domain… To which he noticed the sun had reached its peak, or close enough to it. Had it already been this much time passed? It was a wonder how fast the day was going.

The Dealer looked over to the young sorceress as he felt like she had something to say… Their eyes made contact and there was this hint of something in them. He looked back curiously, wondering what had suddenly spawned in her thoughts… She spoke of wanting to show him something the last time he was here, a long time ago. He remembered of something of the sorts, so he nodded back just as just slipped her hands with his. The man wondered if they were going to be going to see this place, and it was confirmed as he was drawn out of the lively village and into the great woods which held the Great White Being that had harshly reminded him that he was not someone of this world. He acknowledged its presence, though turned to the Sorceress with a smile. "How could I refuse?" He asked, and once broken through the line of trees, came to wrap an arm around her waist, fingers running along her inscription with sparks of power… This was voluntary, but it was only to make her feel good and be close to one another. "It seems to be somewhere very special you wish to share."[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

The Harbinger did not need to follow the two with its gaze. It felt their approach and passing. It knew that Satyra would not break the rules imposed by the Elders. Hence, it rested in peace, its own energies reaching out into the Sacred Grounds, feeling the change and making sure it would stay within control without advancing too fast which throw the world into imbalance of forces. Meanwhile, Satyra shivered lightly under Merrek's touch. By now, they both most likely knew that their inscriptions were the most sensitive places on their bodies, but the sorceress enjoyed much more than that. It was the basic feeling of his skin on hers that made her chest tremble for but a fraction of a moment, her body leaning into his subtly. "Believe me, you will enjoy it. It is a place where I have reached full balance within myself." Her enthusiasm and intentional secrecy showed in her eyes as she peeked up at him, mischievous smirk on her lips that she did not adopt that often but when it came to be, it was thrilling. She could feel them being close, but her mind kept saying that they could be closer still.

As they moved further into the forest, surrounded by moss covered trees and light rustle of the tree tops above, the nature was peaceful without conflict or fight. True, there were predators roaming the wilderness and they were as unpredictable as they could get, but what Merrek would be able to feel was the growing thickness of the flow beneath their feet. The magic that coursed through the very earth itself might seemed to have a mind of its own, protecting the passage that Satyra and the Dealer were now treading. Furthermore, there seemed to be two more flows, one to their right, the other on the left, and they all moved towards the same point in the distance. At first, there were only sandy rectangular boulders irregularly lying on the ground, grass having claimed them for its own, until a view opened up between the trees. The flow has reached its centre and everything alive and living could feel the ethereal power of the magic within.

"When you came to Promia for the first time, I wanted to show you this place. It is here that all the younglings upon reaching fifteen years of age are brought to be granted their Rite of Passage. It is here that I was brought into the clan as life forcer and no longer a child." Satyra spoke in a low, nostalgic voice, breath trembling between her lips as she remembered the moment, the overwhelming sensation of awakening as the Elders brought her body into balance, inscriptions showing on her skin for the first time with the same thrilling electricity that his touch was sending through her. Her hand on Merrek's robes squeezed lightly, her side pressing into him a bit more at the enormity of her mind recollection. They were standing on the edge of the Ceremonial Hall.​

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[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]Their proximity, as subtle as it was, was enough to arouse his sense, especially with how the energy of his threads reacted with hers… The electrifying sparks had gotten to the sorceress and a little bit of it came back to himself. The merging of their souls, or so he theorized, truly was doing a number to all the aspects of their being. Merrek could not doubt the Satyra for a second; she knew of how he functioned as a Ky'lin, the very nature of his being, and he guessed whatever this place was would make him wonderous. Though he caught her eyes, along with a smile that spoke more than she let him know. His heartbeat picked up, his chest heaving a light, shuttered breath. Whatever she had to show him, he believed that it was going to be impressive.

So the two ventured forth into the woods, walking away from the villagers and into the wilds. Though, there was something so very captivating in the ground, near their feet. There was the flow of magic simple running both sides of them, a magic he couldn't immediately identify, and didn't really want to identify yet. He wanted this to be a surprise, even though the overwhelming sensation of powerful magic lingering around. It was… familiar. If it wasn't for Satyra pulling him along,, he would have stopped. It felt… so ancient, like something far, far long ago. It ignited his excitement, as it would be something that would surely surprise him. He wanted memories to flood back and fill his every thought.

He came to spot the irregular stones, eyes going over them for only a second; his eyes had caught sight on some unique, special threads he's never laid his eyes upon before… Or not in a long time. You could already see the awe stricken expression he had as they broke the tree line, his eyes wide. He could barely hear her words as he tried to make sense of the familiarity. He wanted to approach, almost hypnotically watching the threads move around them. The arm tightened around Satyra's waist, as he closed his eyes, remembering… This energy was present only one time in his existence, or maybe only once he could recollect. The lingering, powerful energy that had gathered, its purpose… It knew what it was, he had felt it before… But he couldn't understand where it came from.

"Satyra… I've felt this magic before…" He said softly, opening his eyes to look at them again. "… And it's been so long… I can't remember where I've felt it, nor when…" He was in total admiration at what he was spectating. "… But it's beautiful… It makes me feel… Real." Real? It certainly was an odd word to use in this description, but how else could he describe it. His fingers unconsciously brushing on the inscriptions of her waist again. Eyes shut once he slipped behind her, both arms wrapped around her, and his head leaning against hers. "…I wish I could enter… But I know I can't." He whispered, it's pulsations now reaching him. What was it that was awakening old sensations he could not recognize.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

She saw it. Every single shift in his face did not escape her attention as her blue and gold hues took in his expression. The awe, the wonder, the shock. The memories that echoed on his thread and made her feel nostalgic in ways she has no experienced before. He stood before something he hasn't seen previously, yet it has awoken something inside him. What was there more to achieve? What more could she wish for? Her heart fluttered in her chest, arms aching to bring him close, feel his skin just as he was feeling hers. Yet, he was the one to slip behind her, arms coming to embrace Satyra's body and she laid her hands on his, leaning into him without subtlety, absorbing the sense of bewilderment that carried over his thread onto her. For her, there was only him, this place and this moment. They spoke without really speaking. They communicated without words and to Satyra, this connection felt more and more like something she has been seeking but failing to find until now. They were tied together as one being. Two minds with one heart that beat in synchronization with their surroundings. She felt it. She felt him. "Let me help you remember." Satyra whispered without intention, head turning towards him before she found her way out of his arms, fully turning around yet never letting go. There was no reason for him not to be able to enter. The magic wouldn't prevent it. Elders were far away and only the aeons old trees were the witnesses of something pure entering the grounds they guarded. The hall was but a ceremonial ground, left on its own for most of the cycle. "Let me help you when there are no bounds. When there are only the ancient spirits standing guard over you. Let go, Merrek. No one is here to stop you." Join in with me. Bring yourself to balance. Her very core seemed to be saying and she could not discern whether it was her desire to help him reach enlightenment, or her desire for something much different, or his feelings echoing within her. But whatever her intentions, whatever the stem of her emotions, her thumbs ran over his hands and his inscriptions, arousing the magic in both of them whilst she kept on luring him further into the structure.​

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[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The gentle caress of her hands against his awakened the energy within his markings, succumbing to its arousing sparks. There was another sense of familiarity, but this one much more recent; their threads were sending waves on each other, playing with their bodies, stimulating the nerves under their skin. Their bodies could threaten to merge for just a second, his hands trembling under their excitement… The temptation to fiddle with the inscriptions once more arose, a plea from his desires to fall into them like a predator over his prey. Yet it ran away just barely in sight… His eyes were not needed for this; only his senses of the flow around them. Her words rung in his mind with clarity, even those from within her being resounding loudly. Yes… Guide me… His footsteps followed along with her, the environment but a numbness to his senses. There was only the energies enveloping him, and the touch of the woman who had sparked his sanity from those years of torture.

Their progress was painstakingly slow as Merrek was still seeking that truth that was but a hands-length away… His memories flooded his consciousness, searching madly for what associated with this nostalgia. The made their way deeper into the structure, and Merrek, still highly stimulated by the soft circling of his markings, picked up a few faster steps, closing the gap between them… Hand greedily wrapped around her body, tracing but with a single finger along the makings he could feel… He shuttered as this tension they held for one another slowly fell. He still wished to uncover this energy, what was making him so hung onto the thriving sensations traveling his entire body. His forehead pressed against that of Satyra, barely anything retaining them but their wills… What is it... I want to know… This search was only making the fire burn stronger. "…So unique…" He's deceived himself… He's only felt this once before in his life, a sensations that only came once in a lifetime of his kind… He was so close to the answer… Yet it didn't surface.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

Her feet followed the flow of the magic hidden just beneath the surface, bringing her like a dance partner further into the structure. It was a moment carried on a wind, painting a scene with an airy brush that outlined their body, filled their skin with sensation much more profound, begging them to advance, ruffling their robes. Though, there was no breeze. The magic, the pool where the three strands of power came together were reaching out. It wasn't nature cooling their heated skin, but Promia's essence that so no difference between outsider and inhabitants. Amongst all that, Satyra felt the prickles under her skin. Her inscriptions swirling within their boundaries as his hands trembled in hers. She never failed to smile widely even as he closed his eyes. His surrender to her guidance was rewarding more than all those lives she has saved. His submission contained all that she ever wanted to give him. All she hoped, he understood. Her core trembled at the trust they shared, when mentor became a student and student became a mentor even if for a fraction of a moment. I won't fail you... Words carried on aether of unbreakable promise, caressing his skin, his mind, his being; meaning much more than what the bounds of words allowed.

She could feel his struggle for search of memories that lurked just beyond his finger tips, propelling him forth into her arms, a gasp escaping her lips as he knowingly traced her inscriptions. Her hands reaching up to the nape of his neck, the only release she could find equally tantalizing for him was if she brushed her lips across the lines under his eyes that were the same as hers. It was otherworldly, the sparks that buzzed against the softness of her mouth made her held onto him tighter. Hot, shivering breaths spreading further across him just as her feeling reverberated through their threads. They were intoxicating to each other, slippering down the slope of desire for more than just one another - for understanding, for feeling, for remembrance. So unique... Words floating around them in space where magic had a mind of its own. Unique... "Simple, Merrek. Simple if you want it to be." Whispered the sorceress back allowing her body to take over, pressing against the Dealer, tilting her head just slightly to feel the softness of his lips with hers, yet a kiss was still a breath-width away, fingers feathering across his neck over the blues of their joint magic. Over the heritage she now shared with him without a shame or second thought. She was taken with him, with their chemistry, the exhilarating feelings, the way he made her feel every time he spoke to her in private when she was not Miss Satyra, but simply Satyra as he went to lose himself within her. Each moment his words dropped into a whisper of desperate need to know, to experience. Each time, his hands ran over her, he has taken much more than her love, her core or her life thread. He has taken her as a being and she was equally losing herself within him.​

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[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]Every inch closer to both the energies that held this world together and to the Sorceress, who he had dug into the depths of his core and joined in his life of madness, only made this the more frustration inducing to figure out. The bronze threads that made up his life were softly adjusting to the energies around, wanting to touch it, absorb it, but was also hesitant to try so. So many things were happening at once; the lips under his eyes electrifying the inscriptions and tantalizing his desires to slide his fingers under the soft clothing that recovered Satyra's body. Each of his arms partly released their grips, slipping up upon the inscriptions on her sides, a thumb barely brushing on the curves of her breasts. Simple… Those words would have been echoed back, but he felt the breath expelled into his own, their soft skin of her lips skimming over that of his own… A tease well worth the little amount of patience needed for the man to close, pressing his lips passionately into hers, their bodies now left without a gap. He claimed her like she had always been his, that he needed to make sure she knew that they were truly but a single being in soul.

There was so little his mind could grasp from the outside, his grip upon reality slipping from his consciousness. The scenery became a blur, even to his closed eyes, but also slipped into her own sight… It slowly became darkness that enveloped the ground, slipping over the structure and the sky like an invasion of the Void. Soon, little was left to be seen; only the two indulging bodies and the three flows that came to light the area around… Soft moans escaped the Dealler's lips, barely muffled by the pressure of their lips' embrace. He wished to penetrate past their mortal anchors and delve into the world past their physical flesh. Goosebumps rolled over the skin that was gently caressed by the Sorceress' touch… And their senses deteriorated. Their touch died and the sounds around were but muffled waves… Everything seemed to be like nothingness, a total blank that lasted a split second…[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox=Within the Souls of Two, turquoise, solid]When their spirits came back too… The two would open their eyes to an entirely new scene, with each of them side by side, hand in one another. Their sensations had been left to gentle caresses of their cores. The Dealer split away from the hues of the Sorceress and looked down at the scenery below their feet: they were floating over a large stone room that had been very well kept, with robed men and women gathered around a gigantic round well… From it flowed a strong current of magic, its stream visible even to those who were not gifted with the sight of the threads. There was the chant of a language that Merrek understood surprisingly well; it was words of the Arcane, for those who had studied how to influence the threads without being born with its influence. The Dealer stared in awe once again, wondering what all of this was… It pertained to the familiar feeling that had pulsated in the Hall.

This was all made much odder as he look to his direct left… Seeing all the other aspects, floating around like ghosts and smiling. They were all looking down, excited or curious to see what this was all about… Except the aspect in the blue robes, which seemed to know what was going to unfold. What was it? His hand squeezed into that of Satyra, then came to gently wrap around her waist, his eyes looking down. There was no more tickling of their inscription. Their fervor for one another on a stand still while the mind of the Dealer was trying to calm them, trying to make them understand what all this was.

From the chants came a shockwave at the center of the magical flow, an ever motion white energy going from the ground and into the ceiling, to disappear past it. Orbs detached from this strong current, four to be exact, and those gathered around had stopped singing their mystical song… One of them, hooded like the others, reluctantly advanced, slow steps leading him to tone of the orbs. A hand rose, slipping passed the long sleeves and made contact with the floating white energy… All the aspects were looking at that one moment. That familiar energy was surfacing at last as the hand of the stranger in robes came to press onto the sphere… And then, a pulsation in his thread was felt as the white orb gained its bronze tint, slowly bubbling and forming limbs. It was when the familiar energy he felt int he Hall came to life, the reason why he hadn't felt it in such a tong time. It's the day of my creation...[/fieldbox]​

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

A spiral of meanings and sensations that surpass boundaries of that which is comprehensible by simple human mind. When the capacity of understanding is reduced to just a mere dust in a desert, we are left with nothing but reliance on our feelings. The moment he pressed against her lips with amorousness, Satyra has long waved goodbye to her independent thinking, but even without such property, she was able to understand what his message was; what the significance of this simple act meant. She was his. She belonged to him and now it all became even clearer with their bodies intertwined in a loving act of indulgence, of strife to prove that which was known to both. It is only in moments when one realizes its belonging to something greater, that our mind aligns with the hypothesis. It is only when we let go of the physical to embrace the ethereal that one being converges with other and transcends the boundaries of realms without leaving their mundane bodies.

To Satyra, it was the darkness behind her eyelids that signified her willing loss of herself to something...someone she was now tied to. The darkness where its depth stirred in waves from the brilliant flow of magic she did not see, but felt all around pressing against her skin and reaching within as if she has metaphorically died to rejoin with the very essence that was her. Yet, her reduced capacity to employ her intellect prevented Satyra from knowing that those feelings were not entirely her own, no matter how grand and enriching they might have felt. Not even as she opened her eyes to witness a dreamlike setting, did Satyra falter or question the happenings and their origin. She has given herself to her destiny to the extent were fear of the unknown transformed into quiet contemplation and acceptance. Her hues looked with all-encompassing sight on the scenery that was weaved from a memory that Merrek was trying to reach. A memory that felt strangely familiar but distant nonetheless. This was not hers to behold. She was but a guest and this was for her to admire and witness with reverence as if she looked at the works of gods. Her hand reciprocated the tightening hold, breath catching in her throat. The recital rang with distant power like remnants of the finest flavours on her tongue. A memory which was not her own but affected her as such regardless.

The meaning of the actions that those hooded beings was elusive to Satyra yet as slowly as realization crept into Merrek's mind so it did into hers, able to regain more of her free thinking despite the magnitude of sensations this observation produced. Her arm mirrored Merrek's, like a reflection in the clearest water but the moment his thought resonated somewhere in the aether, her other hand was already on his chest, eyes becoming moist, her coloured hues swirling with awe, emotion rocked by the sight of a miracle. There was nothing greater than witnessing someone's origin; someone's coming to a world when opportunities were open and the possibilities lied just beyond the horizon where one strived with determination. It was not only great honour for the sorceress to be brought into this moment, it was also a decisive time when her comprehension of what constituted the man next to her became clear. He was a miracle. A creation by man but formed from the very threads of the gods. It was a moment when his sadness and insanity that she felt swirl inside him get cloaked in absurdity. Why would he conform himself to misery if his life was as magnificent from day one as she was seeing?​

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[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Within the Souls of Two, turquoise, solid]The unconscious of the magically created being took over the actions the Dealer was capable of doing, submitted to its guiding influences. The hand that had yet to grasp anything came to do just that; his fingers slipped between that of the Sorceress, the simple touch comforting these extreme sensations building up. All of this had been forgotten because of his need to forget everything associated to this world as too not fall into the spiral of madness that the death of his world had brought him and his sister… But this was irrelevant right now. What mattered was this single moment he was sharing with the sorceress who had joined the memories of his mind, just to see the day he had been created.

When the orb of pure magical energy came to completely form; it showed a man in simply blue robes, resembling exactly the True aspect. That legendary smile was already on his face as he looked passed the hood of the being before him… The mages around all remained still, fixated upon whatever glorious discovery they found. The only one that dared to take action was the one mage who stood before that apparition that had manifested from the vital threads of this world. He removed the hood that hid his face, and when it showed, all of the aspect's jaws nearly dropped to the floor, all but the True Aspect, who just watched in admiration to his creation; It was an older, blue eyed Merrek! The two, side by side, could have looked like brothers, almost twins! The mage continued, speaking in a language that now both him and the Sorceress could understand.

"Who are you…"
"Whoever you wish me too be."

The man stared in silence for a second, surprised to have received such an answer from a being just created. He remained stunned at the creation that the people gathered had managed to do. IT was then the blue robed Merrek spoke up once again. "I'm going to need a name. You've created, after all." It was spoken is such a cheerful way, amused at what he was creating in the room. His cheery, joyful attitude seem to have been since the beginning of his time. The older mage stood silent, as if analyzing what he would see as impossible. "… Merrek… Merrek Wildsire." You could feel another pulse of energy rushing through all the looking aspects and the two who were joint by hand and body, an electrifying presence on their souls that suddenly vanished. Three others approached and did the same process, seeing three more Ky'lin who mimicked the same kind of process…The scene then blurred and vanished, leaving them to another split second of darkness, of nothingness as they disconnected from his inner memories.[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]Everything was silent when they came back to the world of Promia; the energies that had wrapped their very bodies and boiled the threads around became serene. The two who had returned were still as they left, their lips were upon each other, the passion having barely died down in it, but no longer driven by the electrifying threads that pushed their desires and lust for one another. His arms still held on tightly to the frame of the Sorceress, light tickles of their magic produced by the touch of their inscription. Their loving embrace wasn't stopped, even in the realization that they had come back. His lovingly kiss deepened, but not with greedy need to claim her body, but with the love of someone who had joined in the beauty that was his creation, to be one with his life and to ease the insanity he suffered. I love you Satyra… You've seen how came to be… And I could never thank you enough for helping me find my day of creation…[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

Satyra could only stare on with an ever-growing sense of awe. It was the Mage who formed from the orb. The man who then gave creation to all his other aspects. Her body in this dream reality pressed firmer against the Dealer's, not in lustful desire, but in awe-inspiring surprise at the events that were unfolding beneath them. This memory must have been so dear to Merrek and she understood why he tried to reach it so eagerly and desperately. It brought tears of emotion into her eyes seeing the smile on the Mage's face right in that moment when he was born, the smile that has bewitched her as well as brought solace to her mind when she was on a verge of losing herself; hearing the name that would come to signify more than just a man with knowledge so vast that the planes of Barren Fields would shy away. All his...siblings, she thought she could call them, coming to being in the same manner. This was indeed a miracle and it made her heart beat strong and fast in her chest with reinforced will and need to live and be thankful each moment for the fate that brought her to Merrek's arms and even in the darkness into which the memory has dissipated, even with the vertiginous return to their physical bodies, Satyra could remain safely hidden and held in his embrace.

She could once again feel everything as it was. His lips, his hands, his...love. I love you Satyra... He said and her heart, hardly having slowed down from the shared remembrance just stopped for a moment there. Love... Now, she could taste its distinct flavour; feel its warmth on her skin and inside her core. Infatuation has made itself known to her before, but love was sacred. Love was what brought clans together. Love was what brought the two of them into each other's arm over and over again and now she saw it as clear as a day. A soft quaver of her core that carried over their joint life threads delivered the answer she now felt safe to say, knowing it was always on her mind, but hiding and afraid of being misplaced. I love you too, Merrek. A tremble of their vital chords just like her words would have done. A tremble of uncertainty disappearing into nothingness, the ultimate offering she knew would not go wasted. If there ever was a perfect union on Promia other than that of nature and human, it was happening now between Satyra and Merrek, a being so alien to the land yet so natural to its magical composition it could become his home. But for this moment, she knew that he belonged to her and she gently let him know with her whole body giving in to his.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]I love you too, Merrek… The embrace of the mage, upon the young sorceress, tightened and intensified at those words as he feared to have her fly away from his arms, to be forever forgotten by the world and that of his own mind. Love was something that so many of the eternal lives could not fully grasp, as its strength would be lost with time and drown into whatever madness drove them to continue of a deathless quest. Yet, there were these moments that reminded Merrek of how mortal he was; how he too had strong desires and emotions that could tip the balance of his life and those of others. He relished in these moments that were so rare in his lifetime, making him until the day he would finally be consumed and turned to nothing but a spirit to join the aethers.

The tango of their lips ended by a simple gesture of Merrek pulling his head back and opening his eyes, just so he could gaze into the golden seas of Satyra's hues. A tender smile hover on his lips as if they had never been into the world of his mind and soul. Fingers brushed off her waist, only to be reach up onto her cheek, thumb brushing over the inscriptions under her eyes. No jolts came of their contact, only gentle, enveloping warmth that could comfort the souls of those who feared that their death was coming soon. The Infatuation had died off, giving away to a moment of pure love and devotion to one another. There would come a time they could indulge in their carnal desires for the flesh and moans of their partner, but this would mark their love, the beginning of something he felt would be just as it was with her… Though he shared love with other beings who were still living within the realities, this one would be remembered for the entirety of his life, without fault. "You are right… This place has a beauty I've never seen before…" He said quietly, not wanting to break the natural silence too much. "I think… I will visit this place more often than I should." A soft laugh escaped his lips, thumb still rubbing upon her markings. "Thank you, Satyra…" He added with the softness of a child's hands. "Shall we return? Or stay a moment more…?" To those last words, another spark was created upon the inscriptions, a small flame of infatuation waking as his thoughts have been cleared.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

The flames of titillation have dimmed to smoldering fire of something much more caring than a spark of the sudden need to consume one another. She would have wished to indulge in their kiss a little longer, but who wouldn't after a confession of such magnitude have been said and hearts have been given. Maybe she was afraid of what she would see in his eyes if she were to break away even though his body has said it all, his life thread even more so. But with Merrek taking the action into his own hands, she was left with no choice but facing the remnants of her illogical fear. It was only a consequence of giving her heart wholly to someone even though she knew that this someone was worth it. Then why would she be so worried? Yet, as their eyes met, his bronze hues dipping into hers with such care and warmth, Satyra could feel her doubts subsiding. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. Only grand amounts of ministrations to get used to and reciprocate.

It seemed that with their mind calmer, even their touch wasn't as toxic to their bodies and Satyra took her liberty of her hands running across the fabric on Merrek's torso, knowing by heart where the inscriptions were since she has seen them on herself so often. This was indeed the calm and quiet accord of reliance and trust in each other that they would follow as their love commanded, knowing that her and Merrek alike would adhere to it without thought or hesitation. "I thought you would like this place. It is where home becomes more than it is for all of us." Satyra replied with a soft smile as one of her hands ascended to the side of his jaw, recalling the memory he has so graciously shared with her, caressing his skin just as he lovingly touched her cheek.

Then she realized it was not fright she felt earlier but a nibbling question that was pushing against her lips to be said. A small ball of confusion that crept onto her brow, head tilting to a side. There was clearly something on her mind that caused her to look as such and it wasn't his touch that tickled her skin with magic or his wordless promise of something more. "What happened, Merrek? What made you such a sad being? What plunged you into madness if you have such a beautiful home to return to?" She truly could not fathom what a horrible fate must have met him to twist his mind in ways that Satyra could only imagine and reluctantly recall from their night of union. She wanted to know because she cared and she wanted to understand his heartache, even if she had a hint it would cause pain to him and sense of guilt to her.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The gentle touch of his fingers onto his jaw only complimented to the smile she had offered him in return to describing how wonderful the Hall of Ceremonies was. If he could make time stand still, he would have done so, just to capture this moment forever, but this was short lived now. The Dealer's eyes went wide as she asked, not expecting to hear this question so soon after they had seen such a glorious sight. His thumb stopped moving, his eyes suddenly turned to the side. Now the visions he sought to forget were slowly resurfacing… The day he had returned, when it was too late. He wished he could pull away and wash this memory of questions away, from bot himself and Satyra. Yet, it felt like she needed to know… She wanted to ease his pain, right? She wished to help him, and so, she needed to know why he was also like he was.

His bronze hues found those of the Sorceress, though the joy from them were syphoned away, leaving a sad, heart-seared pain within them. He opened his lips, a frown upon them, hesitating. It was a simple thing to say, but why was he restricting himself? The struggle began between telling her the whole story or not… His hands fell from her body, only to grab hers and look down upon them. "Well…" He started, not sure if he wanted to continue. Shafin his head and getting some relsoved, he push past the aches of his soul, just so she could understand. "… There is no home I can return to…" It was the start of it, hands trembling. "… My reality was destroyed many, many years ago… Along with all those who resided within it." His eyes began to water, teeth gritting. "And I can never return to my true home…" It was hard on the Dealer to remember these, vivid imagery of the ashen world that once was filled with life. It stung at him and his own heartbeat picked up on its demise. "I've lost those I was created with, and those I worked along side with…" Tears streaked down his cheek. "… And I lost my mortality."[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

Her breathing deepened as she awaited his answer, expecting a story that would stab at her heart with sharp pain of sympathy. But there was something more to his expression - the way his bronze hues lost all the passion, all the happiness and only sorrow and lingering regrets flickered inside. She already repented for asking the question and ruining the moment, cursing her curiosity for getting the better of her for she knew that the answer was never going to be a happy one. But when he spoke, the words he said where extremely different to what she thought she might hear. Nothing stabbed at her heart because it got shredded into pieces with a tale of home lost, loved ones having died, nothing to be retrieved from the ruins and the complete feeling of being adrift that Satyra could feel on his core. Once again, she touched upon an old wound, that was unlikely to ever heal and all she wanted to do was erase all that ached inside him. But it was a damage that was irreversible. Losing his home...just the idea itself has sent waves of unimaginable agony through her whole body. Now it all made sense.

Without realizing her own eyes have watered, wriggling her hands out of his grasp she embraced him around neck tightly, feeling the hot trails of bitter tears rolling onto her shoulder which made her hold onto him all the tighter. "I am so sorry, Merrek. So, so sorry." No words, no matter how trembling and choked with emotions, could fully describe the sense of blame she felt for asking as well as the compassion she hoped he felt on their joint life thread as she tried to comfort him in this time of unwanted memories being forced upon him by her. No wonder insanity claimed him as her lover for so many years. No wonder he wore a smile on his face. His pain and past were all the more reasons for Satyra to fall further into loving this man, for that was all he ever deserved. The pain was too great for him that Satyra could only begin to pray that with her human life she would be able to replace it with ardour, for her to ease his suffering whenever and however she could. Yet for a world like his, a world that seemed to be so similar to Promia, it was mind boggling just the same how it could have been plunged into oblivion.

Shifting in her stance just far enough to bring her hands to the side of his face and look at him, she wiped away the tears that still lingered on his cheeks, not realizing a few of her own have trickled down her with shame heated skin. She knew, she should not push this issue further, but when would there be a better time? There was never a good time for these conversations and so it might have been better for Merrek if he got it off his chest there and then, instead of returning to the painful past over and over again. "How did it happen?" Her words were soft, almost a whisper as if she was afraid to cause him any more pain on top of all the hurtful remembrance. She was suffering just by seeing him cry, not seeing that smile that now she knew was not only his nature but also a mask. She was staring at his true self hidden deep inside his soul and she knew it was a sight she had to witness in order to understand; in order to fulfill her role and duties towards him so she could make it all better, or at least try. She had to endure its entirety just as he constantly battled it throughout the majority of his life.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox= Merrek, gold, solid]How could it have shifted into such dark memories so fast? It a moments noticed, he had come to an overbearing joy of remembering the day he was given the chance to live amongst the people of his world to the memories that took away the wonderful life he was living. The smoke that had been left could be smelt in the air, though it was just an illusion of his mind trying to remind the Dealer of how his insanity started, how his madness had come to be. Even as the arms of the Sorceress came to wrap around his neck, there was no relief that came… He didn't even bring his arms around her… The memories were suffocating his thoughts. Her efforts were acknowledge, but the moment he was reliving was a harsh reminder that he was a man without a home, a being who was an anomaly, a being who isn't supposed to exist.

He wished to scratch this out of his head, to move on from this sad truth he faced. Even the soft touch of her fingers against his skin wasn't enough for him to come back to right away… The tears had fallen and little would care for the Dealer who just tried to think past this. But there came another question, and this one had the Dealer freeze in place. His core body temperature dropped in seconds, making him feel as cold as ice. It was a reflex, an inborn defense against the heat of the beast. His eyes had to stare into hers when asked. His heart raced as he tried to not think of it, words rolling out of his mouth, trying to form something tangible. Yet, there would only be jibberish for a little moment as his mind was hard at work in making him forget who. "… I cannot say Satyra… It is something best not told…" The name almost resounded in his threads, a trickle of hatred reaching him. The one who had done had to, but it did not mean it didn't hurt. On the contrary, there were times where this made it so much more painful as he knew there was something he could have done…

It then he feel into loud sobs as his arms embraced Satyra… He had turn this into a blown out cries as he dragged down to his knees. Why did have to be him? And why did he have to live? Fingers held tight to her skin, a death grip to keep himself from wondering off into his torturous thoughts. He preferred not to say his name; to avoid having Satyra be subject to doubt, to terror of what he was capable of.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

Seeing the pain on his face and his eyes; feeling the torture on his thread, it was putting it all into a much larger perspective. She has made him suffer and it felt like she could do nothing to ease his hurt. He was not responding to her touches, her attempts on comforting him seemed to be in vain as if he has rejected her while being and for that instance she thought that she has lost him. After finally finding a man that she has truly fallen for, she has broken his heart with curiosity she thought was as innocent as the moment they had. Now she was catching hatred on his life thread, bitterness and fear and her breath caught in a throat wanting to turn back time, undo this disaster she has caused. Undo the disaster that has haunted him for aeons.

He couldn't say what caused the destruction and the words flew past her ears along with the sensation, a whisper of familiarity that got drowned in her need to save him the heartache. But she seemed to have pushed too far. She has broken him. Her arms were tightly clutched around his neck as they both descended onto the floor of the Ceremonial Hall, both weeping for different reasons. What was there for her to do? She could only repair damage on a life thread but she couldn't use her magic to soothe a soul. Even this unsettling disturbance ran deeper than she could reach with anything arcane. So she did the only thing that she could as a human and a lover. She rocked him, stroked his hair and again and again apologised for everything - for his past where he has been so unfairly torn away from him home, for the present where she had the audacity to wonder and for the future where he'd have to suffer this fate even after she'd be long gone. She begged for his forgiveness as her own tears soaked into his tunic and she kept repeating that she loved him and would for as long as she lived and even long after she rejoined the magical flows within Promia, wanting to remind him that even as his heart was bleeding anew, she'd take the blame and the hurt, appropriate it as her own because the night before she has given him herself as means to do so. Now was the time for her to stay true to her words.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]So little could be done as the mind of the broken being began to swirl into the madness that had been his life, to the images of both his return and the time he had exiled himself to the Void to suffer one hundred years of trying to take his own life. It wasn't supposed to resurface, not since the acceptance and love he shared with the blue haired fairy, not since they drove their insanity into a spiral of comfort for one another… So much in such short notice. Words spoken of the Sorceress were barely received, though he did feel the tears hit his robes, the forgiveness she was asking for. Was he mad at her? No. She was curious; she wanted to know his pain, to understand why he suffered so much agony over his entire existence. With the will he could muster to blur the images out, just to reassure the Sorceress of her deeds. "You… did nothing wrong Satyra…" It's all he could muster before the images of his past flashed before his eyes. The destruction… His agony of the endless desert…

Tell her. The voice came of nowhere, echoing in both their minds. It sounded vile and filled with insanity, like a madman in an asylum. Whatever this voice was, it came from the depths of Merrek's soul and it was pushing to get out. His life threads were acting bizarrely as if creating patterns without the intervention of anything, trying to form some kind of spell. The Dealer suddenly froze, his breathing rapid. "I… can't…" He said weakly. She deserves to know the Truth! She must know the Truth! Do you want to heal? Do you want the mortal to understand our pain? TELL HER! His last words sent a harsh, power surging pulsation through the both of them. The Dealer looked into the eyes of the Sorceress, as if concerned or terrified of something. She can hear me… The voice cackled. It was F- The voice suddenly vanished as the threads were force to calm down. The Dealer and the other aspects within him were struggling to keep the entity within under control. "Satyra…" He pleaded, tears still falling from his cheeks.[/fieldbox]

 

[The Returner]

[fieldbox="Satyra, #38ACEC, solid"]

Nothing she said or done seemed to work and Satyra was getting more and more desperate. He was slipping away from her and it was a feeling most agonizing as she seemed to not be able to grasp onto him, onto his mind, save him from this deterioration and for the worst of moment she doubted her capability of ever easing Merrek's pain which sprung fresh tears into her eyes. The struggle within him, its intensity reflected into herself. His falling into madness starting to affect her own mind. The pain was just too much. The burden of such madness caused by such a loss was too great for her mind without coping mechanism to bear despite her will to push through, she knew that she was at her wits end and feared what was lurking just beyond the wall that stopped her.

Even as his words, whispered with great effort pierced her ears trying to diminish her sense of blame, it was more the voice that she heard afterwards, the hit the last nail in the coffin of her ability to distinguish reality from the swirling chaos that her mind has locked itself within, stunned at the words she heard, stunned at Merrek's blatant denial of sharing the truth, falling prey to the maleficent words. She was already suffering with him in depths that she hasn't delved into herself since the passing of her father that set her onto the road of reawakening the dead. Yet, this abyss was much darker and scarier place than her own experience was. It was as if taken from the nightmares she suffered after their first lesson. It was a voice from the very bottom of hell seeping into her mind with malevolence. Satyra could not believe that such a nature could be harbored inside Merrek, but logic told her that it was the truth...one side of the truth about the man in front of her, whose body she so tightly cradled.

She can hear me... That simple statement sent shivers through the sorceress body. F... F...? A crack of lightning audible in her mind as it went from zero to overdrive, spun out of control with a malicious push from the entity within their minds. Images of the man they both knew, the phoenix they both loved, her venture into his core where she saw the destruction, memories of his visiting Promia, them sharing passionate love, his gift to her land. No... NO! Satyra... Her name carried on a begging breath when her mind was all but screaming assumptions at her that she dared not to accept as the truth. There was just too much and her fingers grasped onto his robes forcefully because as his threads were forced to calm, hers were plunged into disarray of doubt, questioning and unrest. Only one thing, one word could bring solution to her - the answer that she knew she needed but was frightened to hear. "Merrek...you have to tell me." Her choked voice resonated around them quietly as she tightly shut her eyes torn between what she wanted to hear, trembling with the efforts to reign her mind back into her control, trying to grasp onto the artificial calm inside Merrek but failing to reach. Torn so much that her hand clutching onto his robes was her only way of not going bonkers with her own power. She was still unbalanced from the previous night and if she were to release her magic, only the Gods knew what a terrifying consequence it would be to the sorceress.​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Rain of the Night]

[fieldbox=Merrek, gold, solid]The Dealer came into realization, after a break of only a mere second, that he was bringing forth the wrath of pent up torture and terror to the mind of the young sorceress. What he was doing would crush a mortal's moral and drive them into the madness meant to be hidden away from them. He had asked for something, wordless in his demands, but pleading for relief of his torment… Yet, he was the one bestowing such destructive pain onto her. He wasn't alone in his life anymore; someone was connected to his very core, able to pick up details most would ever imagine be able to see. He needed to realize… He had a mortal who he loved and adored connected to him. His suffering would be hers, and vice versa. And so, he would have begun trying to die down his mind, but she wanted to know. His eyes shut completely, knowing that he wouldn't bear tell the young woman who it was… And so, he had to let the entity within win.

In all this madness, it stopped in a split second. All the thoughts of his twisted past and that of hatred simply vanished from their minds. Before Satyra, there wasn't the white robed Dealer she had come to love… The robes had changed into this ragged, worn out black robes. His mouth had split along the cheeks, revealing a grand jaw filled with razor sharp teeth. The smile that held with this was terrifying. He had the look of psychopath ready for the slaughtering, but yet, his eyes held something… Serious. Tears still trailed down his eyes, and oddly enough, the agitation in their threads had also been erased.

"It was Faireheart." The dark voice said, but instead of being filled with vile intentions and poisonous speech, it simply held the tone of those who had fallen below. "He destroyed it. He took away everything that was dear to me at those times… But I forgive him. I will always hold hate for this being, but this is what he is meant to do." Why was he so calm, when normally, he would be making the threads go wild. The chaos that was supposed to seep out of his skin was non-existent. Something changed… "I should be tormenting you with the Truth, digging it into your skull, but I cannot bare to have someone I care for suffer. You've come to appease me, and just like others before you, your love has come to save what little sanity I have… And for that, I will only tell you the Truth. Do with it as you wish." He seemed sincere, as if all the vileness had driven away from him in a moment of humanity. "Know that I love you… That your mortality has helped me and that I will forever be appreciative of your bravery to help me."[/fieldbox]