The location Henry gives Elijah is somewhere in Rocky Mountain National Park. There's a paper brochure with a trail map and a little inked star to mark the place where they're all meant to meet up. Monday at dusk, he said.
Magic hour.
There's a good three miles of trail leading up to the agreed upon destination. As the sun sinks low in the sky, the mountain wildlife grows more adventurous. Twilight is their time. The time when hikers descend back to their parked cars and return to urban civilization. When campers settle in for the night with their tents and their carefully constructed fires. This is how human beings maintain their sense of control in a very uncontrolled world. But around them, in the tall pines and the steep mountain cliffs, the animals know better.
The place where Henry waits is at a low point on the trail - the entrance to a basin covered in wildflowers and prairie grass. There's a cool, clear lake situated further down, surrounded on three sides by aspen and ponderosa pines. Despite his age, Henry has managed to arrive not only on time, but early. When Elijah and Kiara come upon him, they find him stretched out on a blanket with an old explorer's hat covering his face, seemingly fast asleep. There's a pair of backpacks in the grass beside him: one new, one faded. Red is nowhere to be seen, but there's a sense of him nearby. A little whisper of quicksilver-swift resonance hidden in the tall grass.
There's a woodpecker knocking enthusiastically against a tree not far away. In the distance, a couple of deer can be made out grazing near the lakeshore. All in all, an idyllic location. But they won't be staying for long.
Elijah
Elijah concludes that his mentor- for all his woodsy glory right now- makes him look like a slacker. He didn't pack much, wasn't sure if he needed to bring food but he did bring a backpack with him because, once upon a time, he actually needed a backpack for doing things in the wilderness. Supplies were typical, except for one thing:
He brought yarn.
He brought about three balls of yarn, actually. All bright and gleaming red with some tiny thread of gold through it to catch the light. He's read stories, and has thus concluded that one can not actually go wrong with packing yarn when you're going somewhere. He's walked, maybe makes smalltalk, probably stares at plants and has some dumb grin on his face and occasionally gets distracted by a rock or a feeling or what-have-you.
"This place smells great," he announces, the herald to his arrival.
[per+aware: oooh
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) [Doubling Tens]
Kiara
The last occasion Kiara Woolfe had to spend time with her friend's new mentor, it had involved solving intricate puzzles and leaving with a priceless stone in her hands. She'd been mildly questioning, then. Of the Hermetic's motives, of the wisdom in searching out that which had been stowed away, lost in time and safely out of reach of Awakened's hands.
She possessed much of the same thoughts about today's quest but approaching the point on the trail mark set down by Henry - there's no doubt the brunette has managed to resolve her reservations. Or perhaps, she simply couldn't refuse her friend's request for help - say what you would about Kiara Woolf - when she had your corner, it was without limitation. There's a backpack on the Verbena's shoulders as she approaches, her fingers lightly wound beneath the straps, long hair pulled back in a ponytail and curling, wild and thick over a shoulder.
She's designated hiking boots, jeans with frayed patches around one knee and thigh and an old, dark purple shirt and half-zipped hoodie her traveling attire, the pagan. Her trademark collection of jewelry conspicuously absent; there's nothing but a single silver chain around the woman's neck, securely tucked under the neck of her shirt.
Her movement through the brush is deliberate as she catches sight (and sense) of the low point where flowers dotted the landscape and a figure apparently dosed on a blanket, enjoying the evening air. There's a beat where she stops, the Verbena and stands with her face lifted toward the last feeble rays of sunlight; her eyes closed to it.
Elijah's announcement startles a bird out of one of the gatherings of pine trees bracketing the lake and it takes flight with a snapping of wings and a stark, agitated cry. "There's no pollution." The reply comes, the female approaches with a wildflower tucked behind an ear and another twirling between her fingers, her mouth twitching in amusement.
"You're smelling the actual world, instead of a city." Her dark eyes are on Henry as she approaches, observing the older gentleman.
[Awareness!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 8, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Book of Myths
There's a figure standing between the trees beside the lake - not far back from where the deer are. Elijah doesn't notice her immediately - not until his senses ping with the awareness of her resonance. The sensation is distantly familiar. Burning warmth, cycling and regenerating. The fires of renewal, destructive and life-giving all at once.
Leah.
She feels... stronger than she did the last time they met. Her resonance rolls up on the breeze like the brush of embers. She isn't the only thing Elijah feels, of course. There is Henry, ardent and imaginative as ever - though at present his energy is banked low (resting.) And there is Red hidden in the grass nearby.
There is something else too. Elijah can't see it from where he stands, but he can feel it. The way the air sparks tiny electric currents along his skin. There's a faint smell of ozone, and an inescapable sense of otherworldliness about the basin. That odd sensation one gets when they aren't entirely certain if they're actually awake or not. The gauntlet here feels paper-thin and porous. Like if you pushed at it, it would stretch like webbing.
Book of Myths
There isn't any movement from Henry upon Kiara and Elijah's approach. His arms, crossed loosely over his chest, rise slowly with each shallow breath. By all accounts, he seems to be fast asleep.
The fox, unsurprisingly, is a bit quicker on the uptake. There's a rustle in the grass, then a flash of copper as he hops neatly over the tall blades, trotting down the path to greet the newcomers with his tail fluffed and his ears held at alert. "Henry, our traveling companions are here."
When Henry offers no response, the fox flicks his ears back in mild annoyance. He approaches the blanket where Henry is stretched out, gazes at the man's sleeping form, then thrust's his snout underneath Henry's hat and sneezes.
"Ah, whatsit!?..." Henry sits up suddenly, the hat tipping off his face as he rubs at his ear, blinking. There's a moment where he seems to forget precisely where he is and why Elijah and Kiara are standing there looking at him. Then comprehension clicks back into place and he gives a low, warm laugh. "You've made it! Our little adventuring troupe is complete!" It takes him a moment to get to his feet. There's a soft creak of tired joints and a little grunt as he rights himself and looks around.
"Just in time, too. From the look of the light. I... oh. Where did Leah get off to?"
"She went down to the lake. I'll fetch her." Red turns around and trots off in the direction of the water, leaving Henry to get their things sorted.
"I hope the two of you had a pleasant hike." Henry smiles warmly as he begins to roll up the blanket. "It's such an auspicious evening. I can smell it in the air. We're going to have an eventful journey."
Of course, eventful does not always mean good. (But it does make for a nice story.)
Elijah
"The city isn't a bad smell, it's just a different smell. I think it's a little less strong up in Denver though on account of the fact that there is, like, no freaking air here," a fact that he was still pretty content and intent to point out. He's a child of a place below sea level, he may never get used to the altitude entirely.
There's a moment when he pauses, when something plays across his skin and his brows knit together and he cants his head to one direction, in the direction that he feels a familiar person. It's been a long time since he's just stood there and taken in the entirety of the world around him- every blessed string and connection of it all. Every ping of magic yet to be cast, inherent in the human spirit.
There's the question of where Leah went, Elijah grins. Delighted thing, ever-delighted.
"So we're a party of five?"
Secretly, Elijah started mentally assigning people roles like this was a heist movie. For once, he doesn't label himself as the new guy.
Kiara
It was an important time for those who coveted the change of seasons, who paid special heed to it. The equinox was upon them and it was auspicious (to the pagan's mind) that it was tonight they'd decided to step across to the spirit wilds. She has no doubt about why the barrier between worlds feels so potent, here.
Especially now.
The brunette's fingers stray to the fine chain around her neck absently and toy with the length of it. There's a pendant attached to it; a small cylindrical cut of crystal, Kiara's eyes linger on a point in the distance for several moments after they arrive; the flower in her dark hair adding to the impression the woman gives of being some walking, breathing manifestation of the wild. The cyclic nature of change, itself.
She's looking toward the point where the deer had been grazing, near the treeline where Red takes off to after waking up Henry. Kiara's focus shifts back to him after a pause, she's still twirling the small flower around between her fingers. "It's Mabon," she offers to the Hermetic in lieu of another greeting, then: "I didn't know Leah was coming, too." She seems pleased by the idea, the Verbena, watching the flashing copper-white fox's progress to reclaim the other Awakened.
The brush of Leah's resonance, the fiery stir of embers, recalls to Kiara that she's the only of the gathered who knew that she'd been spending her time at the Chantry recovering from her first foray into the Umbra. The illumination had finally dimmed where it had danced and pulsed beneath Kiara's skin; now nothing but the faintest glow that seemed prominent only in passing; a vague sheen that shimmered and then - faded.
Still, her expression sobers a little and she turns to wait the arrival of the other woman, carefully dropping to her haunches amidst the prairie grass and skimming her fingers over the tips of it. She can feel the stirring beneath the surface, the Verbena. A heady, heavy feeling that raises the tiny hairs on her arms.
The intensity of the pull between worlds was dizzying.
Book of Myths
"Indeed, I managed to steal our dear young Trinity lass. I haven't quite lost my powers of persuasion yet." Henry winks at the pair of them, gazing up from where he's presently crouched in the grass. "Ah yes, Mabon. The Feast of the Ingathering. A time of harvest and reflection." The blanket gets stuffed into the older of the two packs before Henry finally collects his hat from the ground, dusts it off and puts it back on. "I enjoy the pagan rituals. So full of life and memory." His smile here is fond and wistful. "The Order could learn a few things from the Verbena, I dare say."
Henry gets his pack on over his shoulders with a little sigh. "Elijah, dear boy, would you mind grabbing Leah's bag for me?"
(What else are apprentices for?)
They meet each other mid-way along the trail, Leah striding up behind Red's briskly-trotting form. Her hair is pleated back in a simple braid, kept neatly out of her face. The effect is a bit austere against her long neck and angular features. She's dressed in serviceable hiking clothes: sturdy jeans, a black t-shirt and a dark red flannel left open and rolled at the elbows. When she reaches the rest of the group, she reaches out to take her bag from Elijah.
"Hi," she says, simply. Kiara gets a warmer, more relaxed smile before Leah turns on her heel and starts a brisk pace toward a thick stand of trees at the far end of the basin. The air there is beginning to collect into a fine mist. In the dimming light, the effect on the landscape is eerie and dreamlike.
"I think that's our cue," Henry observes with a chuckle, following along behind Leah at a slightly more relaxed stride.
There's a spark of anticipatory excitement in the air that grows stronger as they approach their destination. By now, all of them can feel the change in the gauntlet. The way it stretches and thins. By the time they reach the trees, everything around them is shrouded in a chill, spectral fog.
"Hold back, Leah. Best to stay with the group." Henry reaches her side and puts a hand on her elbow, stilling her restless energy. Turning, he regards the rest of the group (Kiara and Elijah and Red) with glimmer of excitement and slow, secretive smile. "We'll be on the other side soon. Are you ready?"
Elijah
Could he get Leah's bag? Of course he'll get Leah's bag! "Sure," he tells Henry.
Like there was any question. Apprentices are good for a number of things and picking stuff up and carrying them happened to be one of those things. And up it goes, dusted the grass off and held briefly. He was in the process of situating things so that, conceivably, he might be capable of carting around two backpacks at once (because who knows, Henry might have intended for him to carry stuff around for the entirety of their journey. Elijah's pretty sturdy for being a little lithe beanpole.)
Though, she does come to meet them, does reach out for her bag, which is freely offered with a smile. Comes easily, given freely.
Time passes forward, the air feels thin in a different fashion, like the places where the physical world starts and the spiritual world begins feels like swirled greens and violets and oranges on canvas. Not greys, because it's too bright to be a grey.
Was he ready?
He just nods, because the loquacious apprentice finds himself lacking for words at that juncture.
Kiara
The Order could learn a few things from the Verbena, I dare say.
There's a little noise Kiara makes at that, a tilt of her face in Henry's direction with this slanting, devil-may-care smile across her mouth that reads a great deal without saying a word. She does rise to her feet as Leah joins them, though. Brushing dirt from one palm against her jeans and offering one of the wildflowers she'd picked earlier en route to the other Verbena as she greets them.
It's a casual, easy thing. An off the cuff offering but to Kiara (and who knew, perhaps to Leah, too) it had quiet meaning for their ilk. A token of the occasion. The closer they get to the trees, the thicker the mist curls around them, the more anticipation seems to seep into the brunette. Kiara's dark eyes are bright, gleaming as they come to a halt at the point where the Gauntlet feels weakest.
"Let's do it," she confirms, her grip tightening reflexively around one strap of her pack, the other reaching (out of instinct, awareness, who knew) to take Elijah's hand. Her fingers sliding through his, palm warm and sure. She looks at him and smiles, squeezing just once.
Book of Myths
Kiara's offering finds its way into Leah's hair, tucked back behind an ear. It could be just a whimsical bit of fun between two witches, but Leah takes the offering as though it is just that, placing it in her hair with a certain amount of delicacy so as not to bruise the petals. Who knows how long these tokens will last, where they're going, but for now, the Verbenae carry these bits of life with them.
They reach the treeline and take a moment to regroup before pressing on into the next part of their journey. Elijah, brimming with quiet excitement, nods in response to Henry's question. He's more than ready - at least, he thinks he is. Kiara, who is, besides Henry, the only member of the group to venture past the gauntlet before this occasion, says Let's do it.
And Henry smiles. He gestures for Leah to stay at his back, which she does - reluctantly (her legs are longer than his, her muscles younger and more ready to move.) Then the old Hermetic presses out into the mist, passing under boughs and over a soft cushion of pine needles. The fog in the air has a muting effect on their footsteps, and soon, as they continue to press forward, they find themselves walking in near-silence. Even the animals (wherever they are) have gone still.
Shadows creep into the trees. The mist shimmers with shafts of silver light. It isn't clear precisely when they pass through, but all of a sudden the mist... clears. And the five of them (four mages and a fox) find themselves standing in a moonlit glade. The trees are larger here - older. Their trunks reach up impossibly high into the night sky, and above them the stars glow and swirl and glitter in ways they would never do in the physical realm. Brightly colored flowers grow from knots in the trees - rugged, mountain flowers like the kind Kiara picked for Leah, yet so incredibly vibrant.
The five of them have changed too. Here, in this place, Henry's body is wreathed in a swirling, glittering aura. It makes him look far younger than his true years, lighting up his face with this impossibly youthful glow. Beside him, Red's form seems to have become something... more. Not just a fox but the very notion and idea of a vulpine. His fur shines scarlet, his eyes gleaming bright quicksilver and cleverness.
It's Leah's form that attracts the most notice though. When the mist clears, her body alights with warm, shifting flames. There's a glow in her eyes, deep and amber as though lit from within by a bonfire.
The air around them is still.
It shouldn't be still. It should be churning, howling.
Where is the Storm?
Even Henry seems surprised by that, blinking as he looks around. "Oh," he says, quietly astonished. "It's gone."
Kiara
On the other side, Kiara's skin is illuminated as if from beneath with a soft silvery glow. The flower she'd set behind an ear seems impossibly fuller; in bloom as if it had newly burst out of bud; the petals swaying as if set upon by some unseen gust of wind and the Verbena herself seems to have a shimmery cape of tangible color following her movements; a blur of warm golds and greens; they seem to swim around the brunette's form; pulsing in an endless interchange of intensity and fervor.
Where Leah's eyes burn with the fire of her resonance, Kiara's are warmer, almost honey-gold; her hair wilder; curling even where it lays, bound against her neck.
Oh, it's gone.
There's no wind, it takes Kiara a moment to acknowledge it, her eyes on Leah's vibrant, flickering outline before she stops abruptly; her eyes cutting to Henry and then upwards; around. The high, towering trees; the bright, undulating starry sky. She twists in a sudden, startled circuit the Verbena and her expression reads mirrored confusion, eyebrows pinching together.
"That's - not possible. Is that possible? I just - it was here. Before. I felt it."
Kiara's fingers uncurl from the straps of her backpack and a green-gold trail shimmers in the movement's wake; a pulse of pure, bright energy.
Elijah
Kiara reaches to take his hand, and he takes hers with a sort of comfort and uncertainty. They were going somewhere he'd never been, and it felt grounding to be linked to another person, to be physically aware of them and where they were and how much space they took up. A finite reminder of people traipsing into the infinite.
They cross through, and he'd read somewhere that this was supposed to hurt. This was supposed to be a physical experience, he'd expected to be there laying on the floor trying not to throw up in front of Leah and Henry (because right and proper Hermetics don't throw up when they cross through the umbra because that's probably against a rule somewhere that he read or thought he read while he was drunk- don't do something that would make the Order look really bad and puking in front of a supercute set of Verbena would probably look bad. Or maybe he had just imagined it and was using the Order as an excuse to say he'd be really embarrassed if he lost his lunch in front of his mentor. We digress.)
But it doesn't hurt, though. Doesn't leave him feeling anything other than disoriented because the world can be disorienting when you are taking it in for the first time. He blinks, doesn't let go of Kiara's hand just yet, but he does give it a squeeze. Hansel and Gretel into the forest (he wouldn't be caught dead without breadcrumbs).
He stops, released Kiara's hand for a moment to take in his companions- Henry is precisely how he seems to feel instead of how old he is. Something about him reminded Elijah of the quintessential adventurer, a person who was alight with wonder. Leah was... she was what it meant to know fire, the know flames and change and is a force of the elements. There are things he doesn't know, but knows better than to look directly into the sun and knows not to reach out for things that could very well burn you but he doesn't want to look away. Perhaps he is dumbstruck, goes from Leah to Kiara to Red and wonders what am I? if things are more true to themselves than they were across the gauntlet.
People are talking, and he's busy thinking. Looking, reacquainting himself with places he'd seen but never been able to touch.
His shadow is damned near tangible. It folds its arms, looks away as though it can hardly believe Elijah's behavior. It's here. It's always been here, why are you so spacey? If things are more themselves in the umbra, then what was Elijah? Something that made his eyes seem darker, more reflective. But at its core, there is movement. There are shadows there, hair tossed briefly by a breeze that is not there, an aura that is not content to be simply present. His shadow tugs on his pant leg finally, enough that it catches Elijah's attention from whatever musing he'd had and drags him present.
"Maybe... it was like any other storm, I've never known one to last forever," he says. There's an echo, quiet and half a second apart from each word. An afterimage, but different words. Indistinguishable but contrary. A voice that is smaller than his own, hopeful and spiteful. Young and ancient. Takes its tone from the speaker so it knows what to rail against.
Book of Myths
It's a wonder Leah doesn't burn. That her body doesn't blister and char beneath the licking hunger of all that fire. But from where Elijah is standing, he doesn't feel the scorching heat of real flames. This is something else. It's real the way that all things in the Umbra are real. The way that stories are real. Leah here is wreathed in flame because her spirit is a thing of fire. Just as Henry's is one of childlike wonder and imagination, and Kiara's of the wild, shifting passion of the wind.
They are all more themselves here.
When the reality of what they're witnessing dawns on them - that the Storm which has raged across the gauntlet for over a decade is now, simply... not there - each of the mages reacts in their own way. Henry with wonder, Kiara with confusion, and Elijah with the kind of adaptiveness one might expect from someone of his age and experience. Leah, as is so often the case, keeps her thoughts to herself. She looks around in quiet surprise, but does not offer any additional hypotheses.
She does, however, looks down at her hands with this... complicated expression. She doesn't seem surprised to see herself this way. Instead there's a contained kind of nostalgia in her eyes.
It's Henry who speaks next. "It has been dying down this year. But to be honest I didn't dare hope..." He steps toward Kiara and sets a hand gently on her arm. Where he touches her, she'll feel his resonance tickle against her skin like tiny laughing faeries. "We were more right than we knew, I think. Auspicious indeed."
If one were to believe in such a thing, one might presume it was a good omen.
Henry pulls his bag free of one shoulder and opens it up, pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment. Kiara will recognize this as the map Kalen managed to pull out of one of those puzzle spheres that day in Red Rocks. But Henry doesn't open it. Instead he holds it out in his hands and says: "Olpirt Oiad Lama. Illuminate the path."
In his hands, the map transforms into a small, hovering ball of light. It floats out before them aways, then stops, as though waiting.
"We should be on our way," Red says, trotting forward after the beacon.
Elijah
[Per+empathy- complicated expression, you say?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )
Book of Myths
She looks as though she's seen this before. Her hands engulfed in fire. Not a fire that destroys but a fire that burns radiant and everlasting. There is recognition in Leah's eyes, along with this complicated swirl of both sorrow and wistful longing. She's remembering something. Or at least experiencing a sense of memory - like deja vu.
Her thoughts are turned inward right now. Not as focused on the journey ahead or on the Storm's sudden and shocking disappearance as the others are. There is a sense of hesitance about her, like she isn't sure she might not regret coming. Like maybe she should turn around and go back and leave them. But she doesn't do that. When Red marches forward, she eventually follows in his wake.
Elijah
Stasis wasn't an option, not for Elijah at least. He takes things in, the flames and the wonder and the wind that has color and light and movement. He inhaled- as if he needed to taste the air for the first time. He thinks of Kalen, briefly, of thoughts of venturing off into the fray and soon enough there was a hovering ball of light that was telling them precisely where the fray happened to be.
He looks at Leah for a second... another... then another before he gets the distinct pull that he needs to turn around. He notices something, though, but knows he doesn't have the right to say anything. Doesn't have the right to push because he doesn't know her, because thoughts are private. Doesn't know how to say he's noticed or if his assessment that things will work out will fall on deaf ears. They're going, Red marches forward and he does follow along. Middle of the pack.
"Hey, if we get too far off course, do you think the ball say recalculating in this really irritated voice and take us a different way to get where we're going?" he asks her. Little grin, something lighthearted with that echo still following behind.
Kiara
The restless zeal in Elijah is tangible here.
His fervent, spirited energy nudging at him, urging him on-wards (quite literally, as it turned out) and Kiara's confusion and momentary disquiet is interrupted by the sight of it. Arrested, just for a moment so she can witness the way the flighty, impatient shadow flits around and agitates the other Awakened. There's this brief, edging smile before Henry draws her focus, his touch ghosting across her arm, commanding her attention.
Kiara's eyes, usually such dark, expressive conduits to the pagan's mood, are now warmer; infused with the touch of a golden sunrise over the mountains; the flecks of a verdant green earth. They flick over Henry's face, taking stock of his expression, his words. "It does make a kind of sense," she acknowledges quietly, her mouth offering a supple frown, a brief gesture with her hands; a silvery trail blooming in its wake. "Mabon is the Harvest, the day and night are equal counters to each other, maybe the storm was always meant to diminish today.
It's ending its cycle." She observes Henry as he pulls out a familiar piece of parchment and recites an incantation; there's a quickening of the Verbena's pulse as she watches the ball of light appear; the blaze of colors that seem to surround her shift and contort with her; darkening for just a beat into something darker; shades of black and red; a splash of brighter orange before they fade back; the edges smoothing back out like ruffled feathers.
"Maybe not everything that's lost wants to stay that way."
She glances back at Leah, then Elijah as he compares the orb to a spiritual tracking system and there's little breath of laughter; her shoulder knocking against his as she falls back into step with him. "Let's hope that's the only thing it does. You don't want to go down the wrong sidestreet here, believe me."
Book of Myths
Elijah
Stasis wasn't an option, not for Elijah at least. He takes things in, the flames and the wonder and the wind that has color and light and movement. He inhaled- as if he needed to taste the air for the first time. He thinks of Kalen, briefly, of thoughts of venturing off into the fray and soon enough there was a hovering ball of light that was telling them precisely where the fray happened to be.
He looks at Leah for a second... another... then another before he gets the distinct pull that he needs to turn around. He notices something, though, but knows he doesn't have the right to say anything. Doesn't have the right to push because he doesn't know her, because thoughts are private. Doesn't know how to say he's noticed or if his assessment that things will work out will fall on deaf ears. They're going, Red marches forward and he does follow along. Middle of the pack.
"Hey, if we get too far off course, do you think the ball say recalculating in this really irritated voice and take us a different way to get where we're going?" he asks her. Little grin, something lighthearted with that echo still following behind.
Kiara
The restless zeal in Elijah is tangible here.
His fervent, spirited energy nudging at him, urging him on-wards (quite literally, as it turned out) and Kiara's confusion and momentary disquiet is interrupted by the sight of it. Arrested, just for a moment so she can witness the way the flighty, impatient shadow flits around and agitates the other Awakened. There's this brief, edging smile before Henry draws her focus, his touch ghosting across her arm, commanding her attention.
Kiara's eyes, usually such dark, expressive conduits to the pagan's mood, are now warmer; infused with the touch of a golden sunrise over the mountains; the flecks of a verdant green earth. They flick over Henry's face, taking stock of his expression, his words. "It does make a kind of sense," she acknowledges quietly, her mouth offering a supple frown, a brief gesture with her hands; a silvery trail blooming in its wake. "Mabon is the Harvest, the day and night are equal counters to each other, maybe the storm was always meant to diminish today.
It's ending its cycle." She observes Henry as he pulls out a familiar piece of parchment and recites an incantation; there's a quickening of the Verbena's pulse as she watches the ball of light appear; the blaze of colors that seem to surround her shift and contort with her; darkening for just a beat into something darker; shades of black and red; a splash of brighter orange before they fade back; the edges smoothing back out like ruffled feathers.
"Maybe not everything that's lost wants to stay that way."
She glances back at Leah, then Elijah as he compares the orb to a spiritual tracking system and there's little breath of laughter; her shoulder knocking against his as she falls back into step with him. "Let's hope that's the only thing it does. You don't want to go down the wrong sidestreet here, believe me."
[reposts from last time]
Book of Myths
Maybe not everything that's lost wants to stay that way.
"Ah," Henry responds to this with a wise smile, touching a finger to the side of his nose. "Now you're getting it."
It takes a moment for Leah to acknowledge that Elijah is speaking. When she looks at him, there's a blink. Like she's noticing him for the first time, though of course that isn't true. (That little greeting she offered back on the trail seems so far away now.) Maybe she just doesn't get the joke, but after a moment there's this faint, almost-grudging breath of laughter. She doesn't offer any witty remarks of her own, but she shifts the weight of the pack on her shoulders (it seems odd that it doesn't burn up, the way her flames lick over the fabric) and lets the set of her posture relax a little.
Kiara offers a shrewd warning in regards to navigating the umbra, and Henry responds to this with a hearty laugh. "No, indeed, you don't. Wouldn't do to get lost out here. Though it does make for a fine story when you get home."
"If you get home," Red points out from the front. "Trust me, it's not worth the risk. Not for your kind, anyway. You can visit, but..." He pauses a moment, glancing back. "You don't really belong here."
The orb leads them on through the trees. As they walk, a shooting star streaks across the sky above their heads. The landscape around them feels older; more primal than it did on the other side. Every single particle of it is alive and responsive. Some of the trees give off these low, almost sub-aural sounds as they pass. Once, when Elijah passes beneath a branch laden with tiny white flowers, the petals suddenly close up in unison and dart back into their casings. Shy things, these flowers. They peek out again as he drifts further away.
When they reach the edge of the trees, the orb continues on up the side of the mountain. There's a bit of a trail even on this side, but the navigation is less certain. The ground is warm beneath their feet, and there's a deep, slow pulse coming from the stone. As though the mountain itself has a heartbeat. The path the beacon takes leads up, then winds around the side of the cliff. The mountain peak towers above their heads, rising up and up into the star-dusted sky.
It's less intimidating if you don't look up. (But then you miss the view.)
Elijah
[Manip+sub: that is TOTALLY not awkward for me!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )
Elijah
There's this moment where Leah just blinks at Elijah, and he smiles, shrugs, continues on his way as though this was a normal day hiking through an ethereal landscape. Sometimes, when one is moving, it's best to be silent. There are things he's learned whilst enjoying nature, and one of them is that sometimes you should just let nature do its talking. And so, for awhile, the young man just takes his time to listen.
He did stop for a moment though, when they passed under the tree. Elijah probably shouldn't have stopped while they were walking but he couldn't help himself. This was new to him, and he looked around and was unashamed in his wonder at this first pilgrimage into a place he'd only just seen the surface of. It's different when you're looking, looking but not touching because the boundary is there. You're separate, or as separate as two things can be in this world.
When he drifts further away, they do come back, he looks back and continues on the path. Does take enough care to not trip over himself while he's moving. There's a mountain in the distance and those things are ancient, he imagines they speak slowly as though they have all the time in the world. As though the only things they had to worry about were wind, water, and time. (Water could reduce anything to a fine silt- he had good reason to be hesitant there.)
But the ball goes up and he looks up, up, and upward still. Feels small, dwarfed in comparison to a mountain and he knows briefly what it is to be small. Can't get the smile off his face, doesn't reach forward though his shadow does, goes as far as its stuck-ness to Elijah will let it.
They have to go up.
Challenge accepted.
Kiara
She's seen the world once before from this vantage point. It's breathtaking and overwhelming and feels like a sensory overload. Every tiny detail worthy of stopping to stare at and drink in - had Kiara never truly set foot on this side until now - she might have struggled to contain her desire to reach out as they passed and sweep her fingers over the trees, to coax the bashful flowers back out; to crouch down and slide her fingers through the dust beneath their feet.
(How many occasions would there be, to touch the world from this side, after all? They can't know, not any of them)
The Verbena seems about to respond to Henry when Red chimes in and Kiara's eyes flick down to the fox, she tucks her hands further under the straps of her pack and quickens her pace to catch up to the Hermetic and his companion, her eyes ticking back briefly to Elijah and Leah, bringing up the rear of their small troupe. "My mentor told me that there have been those of us who stayed too long and couldn't return." The brunette's voice is low, pitched for the ears of those nearest her, perhaps.
Her dark hair seems to move against her shoulders as if caught in a slow, twisting current; the blaze of colors surrounding her keeping easy pace with Kiara's long strides.
"That they couldn't, after a while. They became a part of this place." Kiara's eyes rove over the encroaching mountain as it looms before them and her expression betrays some mingling curiosity and hesitation as they begin to navigate along the makings of a trail. "If the storm is really gone, that's going to change everything, isn't it?" She seems to be directing this at Henry, her eyes carefully focused on where she's stepping; fingers tightening where they grip at the fabric straps of her bag.
"Places that were cut off from us." There's this tiny flicker that darts through her eyes, the colors in them here seem to spark and react; gleaming as her mouth flexes at some expressive little reaction.
"Not just from us."
Book of Myths
Henry glances at Kiara when she falls in at his side. Her words bring a slightly sobered expression into his eyes (the irises are all glitter - swirling motes of teal and violet.) "Those stories are all too true, I'm afraid. Those who get lost here lose their connection to the mortal realm. When that happens, they become like ghosts. When the Storm first hit, many of our realms became graveyards. But..." He smiles reassuringly. "We are not going there today."
"Hopefully," Red murmurs.
They reach the base of the mountain, and there's a sense of being on some kind of precipice. Kiara poses her question and both Henry and Red stop to look at her. There's dawning comprehension on both of their faces when they realize the full implications of what it means that the Storm is gone. Not just for them, but for everyone.
"Ah, yes." Henry's voice is quiet as he looks down at the earth, frowning a little. "This will change things for all of us, I suspect. Perhaps it will be different this time."
There's something a little ambivalent in the way Red glances at him, but if he has any other thoughts, he doesn't speak them aloud.
The ascent up the trail is steep enough that the travelers are forced to pay attention to their footing. Red, being the most nimble, has little trouble hopping over the occasional stones that get in their way. Henry's pace slows a little at the steepest point, forcing the fox to pause and wait for him. He is spry for an old man, and more youthful here than he is in the physical realm, but there are times when his age shows. When he has to stop for a moment and catch his breath; when his joints complain at the abuse he puts them through. Still, they keep good time, and inevitably the slope evens out. Here the path drops off sharply at one side. Looking down...
It's as though they've been climbing all night. Have they? It certainly didn't feel that way. Perhaps time works differently here.
Perhaps distance works differently.
The cliff is steep, but the trail is wide enough to accommodate the travelers, and for now the mountain seems disinclined to make their journey more hazardous. The five of them wind their way along the curving path, hands stretched out to trail along the rock-face at their other side as though it were an anchor against the steep abyss. Above them the sky is even more alive. Stars gleam and shimmer. Now and then the constellations come alive and chase each other across the heavens.
Finally the hovering light comes to a stop. They've reached the end of the trail, it seems. Up ahead, it cuts off sharply, as though whoever built it simply ran out of mountain. But where there ought to be nothing but open air, there is instead a shimmering trail of moonlight leading off into the distance.
"Ah, a moon bridge!" Henry exclaims, sounding pleased.
Elijah
He wonders, briefly, what that felt like. Losing your connection to the physical world, slipping off until you were nothing but the idea of what you were, experiencing the second death where everyone who knew you fades off to do whatever it is people do when they pass on (hopefully reincarnate, but it doesn't always work out. He knows that). He wonders what that must have been like, if people went on with acceptance or just went on with their days like the string quartet on the Titanic.
It isn't a mournful thought, though. Too far removed from the actuality of it that he can't quite think of it beyond terms of a mere thought exercise. It keeps him occupied in the brief moments when he is more than just a body that is moving. There's a sort of zen in movement, a joy in having a challenge and feeling the possibility of taking the wrong step at the wrong time.
He waits for Henry. Tries not to make a big show of the fact that when his joints fail to cooperate or he needs to catch his breath that he's concerned. Doesn't hover but, well, is the kind of concerned that comes when one is fond of another person.
The mountain grows tired of making their journey hazardous, though and soon they're at-
"Where's this one go?" brows raised, not yet breathless but perhaps there not for sake of exhaustion but, rather, because of where they were. They'd been traveling all night, or maybe it just seemed as such. He didn't feel the need to mark the passage of time, save for the fact that they'd been moving long enough that... no, he wasn't hungry.
Hmmn. That was new.
Kiara
Perhaps it will be different this time.
Kiara, like Red, doesn't outwardly respond to Henry's offered hope for things to be different this time but there's the sense that the Verbena remains troubled by the prospect, even as she turns her attention to climbing the summit of the mountain.
The brunette is no stranger to hiking and Kiara's long legs eat up the ground easily enough; though she, like the others, makes use of the rock-face at one side to brace herself; her foot, at one point, nudging a small smattering of pebbles over the edge of the mountain. They scatter loose and drift over the edge into nothingness below and the pagan's eyes follow them downward for a beat, caught up, for a moment, in the wonderment of what lay beneath them.
Of just how far they'd climbed.
Ah, a moon bridge!
The Verbena edges closer as Elijah questions where it leads, the shimmering incandescence drawing the brunette's fascination. She leans into the point where the mountain simply - ends, the crystal around her neck sliding out of her shirt; winking in the light as it untwists on its length of silver chain.
"Down the rabbit hole." She murmurs with a glance over a shoulder at Elijah, this brief, sharp little smile.
Book of Myths
Where's this one go?
It's Red who answers, his eyes cast out across the distant expanse laid out before them. "Earthside? If memory serves, this one empties out in Northern Canada. Though I doubt that's our final destination."
Trailing at the back of the group, Leah pokes her head around to observe the moon bridge with a quietly wondrous expression. It's the first time she's seemed really present since they started climbing. "Canada's a long ways off."
"That's the thing about moon bridges, my dear..." Henry turns to address her with a smile. "They take you where you need to go, and quickly. The thing is, they do tend to attract attention."
"Listen." Red interrupts Henry with a firm tone, glancing up at his companion with an expression that feels almost cautioning. Like maybe his warning is as much intended for him as for the rest of them - though surely the old man has had plenty of experience with these things. The fox turns to fully address the group. From where he stands, a faint breeze whispers through his fur, and the light from the bridge gives his delicate form a little halo. "This is very important. Once you step onto this bridge, you cannot leave it. No matter what you see or hear. If you do, you'll be lost. And whatever's out there will take you. Understand?"
There's an ominous cast to his warning, but perhaps that's necessary. Henry glances down at his familiar with a soft smile and pats him on the head. "Red is right. But don't be afraid. If we stick to the path, whatever's out there won't be able to hurt us."
"Unless we run into someone else on the bridge. We should be careful. Werewolves like to use these."
"Well, if we run into a werewolf, I'm sure we can make friends."
At that, Red just gives an amused snort. "Alright you lot, let's go." Then he turns and sets his paws onto what should be open air. Except it isn't, and somehow the moonlight holds his weight. He gives another glances back and flicks his tail, indicating that they should follow. Henry takes a breath, all sparkling excitement once again, and steps out onto the bridge behind him.
Elijah
He has to poke it.
He can't help himself, he takes a few steps forward, puts his hand out and pushes on the bridge like he can't quite fathom how light is going to hold them on the way across- it's different int heories than it is in practice, and there he is. Inhales slow and deep and that smile is fond. Pleased. Quiet because he's been quiet for awhile, possibly overcome with the majesty of the whole thing.
"Okay, so basic moonbridge etiquette- keep your hands to yourself, don't fall off, don't be awkward with werewolves?"
Waitaminute.
He blinks. There are werewolves, big angry things that could probably eat him whole. He blinked again for good measure, but shook his head when he figures that, surely, people will keep their ways to themselves on what seems to equate to a spiritual highway. He bumped Kiara with his hip, not enough to really do more than let his presence be known and it was off onto the bridge.
"Didn't even need a passport."
Moonbridges, he concludes, are freaking amazing.
Kiara
There's a moment after Red offers his pronouncement that Kiara stills, her arms crossing over her chest, eyes traveling between the pair as they argue the particulars of travel after this point. She seems to take the familiar's warning to heart, her mouth curled downward into a frown of consideration as she lets her gaze slip along the moonbridge and then they tick back, those dark eyes at mention of werewolves.
There's a small, sharp breath taken in and Elijah's comment (and hipbump) are returned with a brief little expression of humor, though it's punctuated by something sobering - there's wariness to the way the pagan sets foot out onto that bridge; feeling forward and pausing, just once, to cast a glance over her shoulder, back the way they'd come.
Not hesitation to press on so much as - consideration, of what lay behind them.
Her fingers reach for the crystal around her neck and close around it and perhaps only Leah is close enough to hear the invocation that Kiara offers up, before they begin.
Goddess, guide our steps.
Book of Myths
Henry gives a hearty laugh at his apprentice's succinct summary of affairs. There's a reason the two of them get along so well. They seem to share similar outlooks on a great many things.
One by one, they take turns looking out over the dark abyss, and one by one, they step out onto a stretch of silver light that miraculously holds their weight. At first it seems like little more than a shaft of moonbeam, but as they walk the bridge opens up and grows more solid. After a few yards, it widens enough to allow two or three of them to travel side by side. The pathway is lit by a cool silver glow, but beyond the scope of the bridge the darkness feels impenetrable. It isn't long before the mountain disappears behind them. There's a sense that they really are committed now.
Into the unknown.
At first. the journey is quiet. Peaceful, even. It's difficult to tell exactly how far or how fast they're moving, but the air has a slightly cooler feel to it than it did on the mountain. Up ahead, the floating orb of light hovers along, leading them to their eventual destination.
Then the noises start.
It's starling, at first. A low, guttural moan sounds from somewhere in the blackness. Soon it's joined by others - both distant and near. There are other sounds too: clicks and scrapes growls and some kind of whirring noise. They come and go, fading in and out. Whatever's out there, none of them can see it. Does that make it more or less frightening?
Leah, walking beside Kiara, reaches out to grasp her hand in a tight grip. The fire along her skin flickers low for a moment before she suddenly snaps, "Shut up!" And her entire body erupts into flame. Thankfully, the heat of it doesn't burn where it washes over Kiara. But she will feel the smoldering prickle of the girl's anger and, for a moment, the air around her smells like ash.
Oddly, the sounds do stop. For a time.
Things have just begin to settle when Elijah will notice a small, bioluminescent ball floating just outside the perimeter of the bridge. As it nears, the shape of it becomes more defined, and he can see what looks like a soft, blue-green mop of fur held aloft by tiny fairy wings. Then there's a blink as it opens wide, puppyish eyes.
It makes a sound, soft and curious - like a combination kitten mewl and bird whistle - and stares at Elijah plaintively.
Elijah
[Wits+cosmology: Ooooooh, I wanna touch iiiiiiit]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (3, 3, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )
Book of Myths
Elijah has never seen any creature like this before, nor has he read about it in any of Henry's books. What he does know, however, is that there are a lot of spirits out there who like to play tricks on unsuspecting mages (and hadn't Red just warned them not to step off the bridge? hadn't Henry just said that they were going to attract attention?) This thing is adorable, granted. And man, those eyes. Those sounds. It's almost impossible not to want to reach out and touch it.
And maybe that's the point. Maybe that's what it wants. Maybe it's a lure.
For what? Possibly, something decidedly less adorable.
Elijah
He dreams about this. He used to, anyway. Every night, he'd dream of the stars going out one by one and the spaces where there was right and truly Nothing... until he realized there was something there. This is the place he goes when his very essence is insistent. His shadow seems all but gone, the wind that is not the wind shifts and his eyes- for once dark instead of that vibrant green- focus on the space between them.
There's a strange sort of understanding when there's that moan, those sounds that should scare him but one has to understand, he knows this. He feels this, dreamt of it, had the horrified terror not a year ago. This time last year he was screaming it out with his avatar, through a chair at Pan's wall and pleaded to make his own mistakes, to let him live his life instead of whatever his avatar was trying to warn him about.
This was it, though.
The noises start, the beings beyond their senses and then there's something small and sweet and those cute sounds and he does respond, doesn't shy away from the fact that he does have a base reaction to something that was freaking adorable, but...
This was four years of his life. Every night. Things that didn't make sense that played havoc with his imagination and now, finally now, it made sense. He thinks of the Keeper of Secrets, thinks of a light like Hope that dangles in front of a mouth that would do more than consume. A light for the depserate. He straightens, and the wonder does not come off his face because he's long since started to make peace with the fact that the horror was part of the wonder.
"You're a bit like an angler fish, aren't you?" he tells the little ball of cuteness, continues on his path with something that feels like a man who is resolute. Strange, because he'd been known as indecisive. Not strange, because he feels at home for once, like this was the kind of thing he was born to be doing and wouldn't be swayed so easily.
His echo still comes, half a second behind, more clear like a warning to whatever was out there, we will not be so easily tempted. It's the strength that Elijah has but doesn't show. Doesn't seem to realize- when they're in sync they'd be unstoppable. His aura flashes something like a wisp- something blue and shimmering, something like approval without speaking it.
Some things are unspoken and need to remain as such.
Kiara
Kiara's soothing halo of color, the whirling, pulsating greens and silvers have threaded through with red, now. There's a suggestion of darker tones, of earthier browns and golds and when Leah reaches out to grasp her hand; they ignite with a little burst of vivid punctuation at the touch; the edges around the brunette flicker-dancing as Leah's temper erupts at the moaning and crying.
Their resonances combine and for just a second, there's fire dancing along both the Verbenae before it passes and, Kiara's fingers curl around Leah's hand; her thumb stroking over her palm in a tiny, wordless gesture of comfort; the soothing balm of her energy swirling around the other woman.
"Aisling used to tell me that there's so many things we don't understand about the Umbra," Kiara offers softly; perhaps to distract Leah (and who knew, maybe Elijah, too, when she glimpses the way he's distracted by something beyond the limits of the bridge). "The rules we think exist, really don't." Kiara's eyes slip beyond the shimmering, silvery trail they walk along.
"We think of right and wrong in human terms but - that's not the currency of the Umbra, not really. I don't know if anything would hurt us because it has the intention to, but - " There's a pause, Kiara's shoulders lift in the barest suggestion of a shrug. "How do you articulate intent when it comes to things that aren't human, to what's out there - " her eyes tick away again.
"I'd imagine we must be so bright. Like a spotlight drawing them in."
Book of Myths
You're a bit like an angler fish, aren't you?
Beside him, the fluttering ball of eyes and fluff makes a deflated sound, its wings drooping. Perhaps Elijah will even wonder, for a moment, if he'd made a mistake. Surely there were things out there that were simply curious - that did not intend them harm. But then the ball floats out of view, and the sound of something hissing can be heard out in the darkness. There's a soft slide of shifting coils, and another low, alien click-click-click.
Then the air is quiet again.
Leah's blistering mood settles into something quieter, more thoughtful as she listens to Kiara speak. Even Henry turns around, throwing an appreciative glance over his shoulder. He doesn't interrupt, but he does give Kiara a small nod of thanks.
"It's funny," Leah offers, her voice whisper-quiet. "I remember very little about the Umbra. Other things from other lives I remember. But... " she frowns. "I could hear them in my head. They wanted to take my light. My fire. Yours too." She glances up and looks at Elijah, at Henry, then back to Kiara. Finally she releases Kiara's hand. "I'm sorry I got angry."
There are no more encounters after that. It isn't long before they find themselves looking ahead at what appears to be the end of the bridge. When they step off onto solid ground, they find themselves in the center of a forest glade. This one, though, has a decidedly more wintry feel than the one where they began. The air, even here in the penumbra, is cold enough to make their breath create little plumes of steam, and the ground is coated in a thick, glittering layer of snow. It crunches beneath their feet when they step onto it. The trees around them are ancient evergreens, their trunks wide and knotted, their needles dusted with ice and snow.
When the beacon of light reaches the center of the clearing, it stops, hovering in place. When Henry walks up to it, it remains in place, and he frowns.
"Hmm. That's odd. Perhaps we should look around for a gateway?"
Book of Myths
[Edit: that was supposed to say "When Henry walks up to it, it remains still"]
Kiara
[Perception + Awareness, hmm.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 1 )
Elijah
he does doubt, and there is a moment that there is a feeling that, perhaps, there may be things out there that are merely curious and perhaps there are. Perhaps it may be the host of one of those alien sounds but being the subject of a spirit's curiosity did nto set well with him. Not when it was so far beyond human comprehension that he had no frame of reference to begin from.
Briefly, Elijah wonders how Jenn would paint the spaces in between. How she would communicate that yawning forever with differing shades of nothingness.
"You can totally be angry. There's nothing inherently wrong with that," he remarks, pipes up for a second before going back to just observing the world around them. Taking in the sounds not as comforts but as things that pinged on his imagination. He wasn't deterred.
Once they depart the bridge, he's hit with the smell. Elijah inhales, slow and deep and feels the cold in his lungs. He exhales, refreshed. Though, the ball of light stops and he stops with it. Quirks his mouth to the side, makes a little sound that sounds a tad like mrph and his attentions go to the area around him. Maybe there was something here?
[Per+aware]
Dice: 7 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Book of Myths
It isn't immediately clear precisely what they're meant to find. Looking around the glade, there's nothing that stands out as any kind of door or gateway. No shimmering pools or magical wardrobes. What Kiara and Elijah can feel, however, is a faint whisper of icy breath gusting over their skin. There's something about it - the way it feels colder than the rest of the air around them. And it seems to be coming not from the open spacesbetween the trees, but from one of the trees itself.
Like it's... breathing.
Elijah
He stops, perks up and straightens like he noticed something, a shift in the wind. He looks at Kiara for a second, as if he was confirming that wasn't just her resonance, and he then looked over at a tree. And thus, he meandered on that way to inspect the trees a little more thoroughly.
Kiara
They wanted to take my light. Yours too.
Something about that, what Leah says, seems to impact the other Verbena. Kiara's dark eyes shift back to Leah and as the other woman apologizes for losing her temper and draws away; Kiara's hand touches the small of her back in a fleeting gesture; a tiny brush of her fingers there and gone. A tactile reaffirmation, perhaps, that she was there and that, even unspoken - the other female understood.
The scene they step out into is reminiscent of a storybook; snow tipped evergreens and a thick layer on the ground; Kiara's breath mists out before her as she raises her eyes to the towering trees; turning in a tight circuit slowly as the orb comes to a halt; hovering in the center of the glade.
That's odd.
The Verbena's attention, however, has been captured by a particular tree. She feels Elijah's interest; the movement that draws her eyes to him and she nods minutely after a beat, turning toward the others. "I think it's over here." She nods after the direction Elijah's taken off in, his footprints leading the way toward the treeline.
The Verbena's fingers ghost out, tracing the air. "Can you feel it?"
She's slower to approach the tree, Kiara, but her dark eyes are bright with interest.
Book of Myths
Leah notices it too, the brush of frozen air that seems to emanate from one of the trees. She turns when Elijah does, but doesn't follow. Instead she stands there in the snow, her flames flickering low in the winter air. Her body gives this little shiver as she pulls her flannel more tightly around her torso.
"We're going somewhere cold," she murmurs, and there's a faint edge of unhappiness in her voice.
"Would you like a blanket my dear?" Henry walks up and places his hand on Leah's shoulder. She gives a little jump, then looks over and shakes her head.
"I'm okay."
Meanwhile, Kiara and Elijah approach the treeline. The closer they get, the colder the air feels. The gusts of frigid breath draws slowly in and out of an old, scarred hollow in the trunk.
Can you feel it?
"I think you're right." Red comes up behind her, gazing up into the evergreen's huge, sweeping branches. "Come on Henry."
With Henry and Leah trailing after, the little glowing orb finally begins to move again. It floats along toward the tree, passing over Kiara's shoulder. When it gets there, it hits the trunk and just... vanishes.
Are they meant to walk through it? Red huffs thoughtfully, gives a little flick of his tail and hops straight into the tree. When he does, he disappears too.
"After you," Henry offers with a smile, gesturing for the others to go ahead.
Elijah
When the air siezes in his lungs, when all he feels is the unforgiving cold, Elijah beams. Shivers, yes, but isn't terribly daunted by the fact that it is cold and, for some reason, he hadn't actually prepared for it to be cold but he was excited none the less.
The orb vanishes, as does Red, and Elijah has the moment where it seems to dawn on him that just going through would be a terrible plan since he is likely the only one who hasn't the foggiest idea as to what he is doing, but? It hasn't stopped him before and thus, he puts his hands out, closes his eyes, and makes a run for the tree, fully prepared to fall flat on his face.
Or, you know, make it through the door. Everything about his expression screams this is a bad idea and yet he goes with it. It suits ELijah somehow.
Kiara
Red hops into the tree and vanishes, Elijah too, makes a sudden run for it and pops out of sight, as if he were never there to begin with but Kiara, her lips parted and eyes wide, instead raises both her hands and traces it over the seam where the worlds seem to lash together. Her expression is - a complex puzzle of rapt fascination and uncertainty.
Everything about what made the Verbena who she was seemed to contradict the place they were going; somewhere bound in a frozen stasis and here was a creature who seemed to pulse with vitality itself; the bloom of spring seeking to thaw the snow beneath her feet; to dissipate the chill even as she breathed it out.
Henry's waiting for the others to cross and eventually, when her tentative exploration is done, she does. There's meaning to it that perhaps there isn't for the others, of course, literal and not simply connection into a manifestation with nature. Of it. First her hands, then arms; a strange, dreamy look stealing over Kiara's features.
"Oh, it feels - " She doesn't quite finish it; slides out of sight, instead; there and then - just her footprints, left in the snowy ground.
Kiara
["literal and not simply figurative connection", I know what I meant.]
Elijah
Stasis wasn't an option, not for Elijah at least. He takes things in, the flames and the wonder and the wind that has color and light and movement. He inhaled- as if he needed to taste the air for the first time. He thinks of Kalen, briefly, of thoughts of venturing off into the fray and soon enough there was a hovering ball of light that was telling them precisely where the fray happened to be.
He looks at Leah for a second... another... then another before he gets the distinct pull that he needs to turn around. He notices something, though, but knows he doesn't have the right to say anything. Doesn't have the right to push because he doesn't know her, because thoughts are private. Doesn't know how to say he's noticed or if his assessment that things will work out will fall on deaf ears. They're going, Red marches forward and he does follow along. Middle of the pack.
"Hey, if we get too far off course, do you think the ball say recalculating in this really irritated voice and take us a different way to get where we're going?" he asks her. Little grin, something lighthearted with that echo still following behind.
Kiara
The restless zeal in Elijah is tangible here.
His fervent, spirited energy nudging at him, urging him on-wards (quite literally, as it turned out) and Kiara's confusion and momentary disquiet is interrupted by the sight of it. Arrested, just for a moment so she can witness the way the flighty, impatient shadow flits around and agitates the other Awakened. There's this brief, edging smile before Henry draws her focus, his touch ghosting across her arm, commanding her attention.
Kiara's eyes, usually such dark, expressive conduits to the pagan's mood, are now warmer; infused with the touch of a golden sunrise over the mountains; the flecks of a verdant green earth. They flick over Henry's face, taking stock of his expression, his words. "It does make a kind of sense," she acknowledges quietly, her mouth offering a supple frown, a brief gesture with her hands; a silvery trail blooming in its wake. "Mabon is the Harvest, the day and night are equal counters to each other, maybe the storm was always meant to diminish today.
It's ending its cycle." She observes Henry as he pulls out a familiar piece of parchment and recites an incantation; there's a quickening of the Verbena's pulse as she watches the ball of light appear; the blaze of colors that seem to surround her shift and contort with her; darkening for just a beat into something darker; shades of black and red; a splash of brighter orange before they fade back; the edges smoothing back out like ruffled feathers.
"Maybe not everything that's lost wants to stay that way."
She glances back at Leah, then Elijah as he compares the orb to a spiritual tracking system and there's little breath of laughter; her shoulder knocking against his as she falls back into step with him. "Let's hope that's the only thing it does. You don't want to go down the wrong sidestreet here, believe me."
[reposts from last time]
Book of Myths
Maybe not everything that's lost wants to stay that way.
"Ah," Henry responds to this with a wise smile, touching a finger to the side of his nose. "Now you're getting it."
It takes a moment for Leah to acknowledge that Elijah is speaking. When she looks at him, there's a blink. Like she's noticing him for the first time, though of course that isn't true. (That little greeting she offered back on the trail seems so far away now.) Maybe she just doesn't get the joke, but after a moment there's this faint, almost-grudging breath of laughter. She doesn't offer any witty remarks of her own, but she shifts the weight of the pack on her shoulders (it seems odd that it doesn't burn up, the way her flames lick over the fabric) and lets the set of her posture relax a little.
Kiara offers a shrewd warning in regards to navigating the umbra, and Henry responds to this with a hearty laugh. "No, indeed, you don't. Wouldn't do to get lost out here. Though it does make for a fine story when you get home."
"If you get home," Red points out from the front. "Trust me, it's not worth the risk. Not for your kind, anyway. You can visit, but..." He pauses a moment, glancing back. "You don't really belong here."
The orb leads them on through the trees. As they walk, a shooting star streaks across the sky above their heads. The landscape around them feels older; more primal than it did on the other side. Every single particle of it is alive and responsive. Some of the trees give off these low, almost sub-aural sounds as they pass. Once, when Elijah passes beneath a branch laden with tiny white flowers, the petals suddenly close up in unison and dart back into their casings. Shy things, these flowers. They peek out again as he drifts further away.
When they reach the edge of the trees, the orb continues on up the side of the mountain. There's a bit of a trail even on this side, but the navigation is less certain. The ground is warm beneath their feet, and there's a deep, slow pulse coming from the stone. As though the mountain itself has a heartbeat. The path the beacon takes leads up, then winds around the side of the cliff. The mountain peak towers above their heads, rising up and up into the star-dusted sky.
It's less intimidating if you don't look up. (But then you miss the view.)
Elijah
[Manip+sub: that is TOTALLY not awkward for me!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )
Elijah
There's this moment where Leah just blinks at Elijah, and he smiles, shrugs, continues on his way as though this was a normal day hiking through an ethereal landscape. Sometimes, when one is moving, it's best to be silent. There are things he's learned whilst enjoying nature, and one of them is that sometimes you should just let nature do its talking. And so, for awhile, the young man just takes his time to listen.
He did stop for a moment though, when they passed under the tree. Elijah probably shouldn't have stopped while they were walking but he couldn't help himself. This was new to him, and he looked around and was unashamed in his wonder at this first pilgrimage into a place he'd only just seen the surface of. It's different when you're looking, looking but not touching because the boundary is there. You're separate, or as separate as two things can be in this world.
When he drifts further away, they do come back, he looks back and continues on the path. Does take enough care to not trip over himself while he's moving. There's a mountain in the distance and those things are ancient, he imagines they speak slowly as though they have all the time in the world. As though the only things they had to worry about were wind, water, and time. (Water could reduce anything to a fine silt- he had good reason to be hesitant there.)
But the ball goes up and he looks up, up, and upward still. Feels small, dwarfed in comparison to a mountain and he knows briefly what it is to be small. Can't get the smile off his face, doesn't reach forward though his shadow does, goes as far as its stuck-ness to Elijah will let it.
They have to go up.
Challenge accepted.
Kiara
She's seen the world once before from this vantage point. It's breathtaking and overwhelming and feels like a sensory overload. Every tiny detail worthy of stopping to stare at and drink in - had Kiara never truly set foot on this side until now - she might have struggled to contain her desire to reach out as they passed and sweep her fingers over the trees, to coax the bashful flowers back out; to crouch down and slide her fingers through the dust beneath their feet.
(How many occasions would there be, to touch the world from this side, after all? They can't know, not any of them)
The Verbena seems about to respond to Henry when Red chimes in and Kiara's eyes flick down to the fox, she tucks her hands further under the straps of her pack and quickens her pace to catch up to the Hermetic and his companion, her eyes ticking back briefly to Elijah and Leah, bringing up the rear of their small troupe. "My mentor told me that there have been those of us who stayed too long and couldn't return." The brunette's voice is low, pitched for the ears of those nearest her, perhaps.
Her dark hair seems to move against her shoulders as if caught in a slow, twisting current; the blaze of colors surrounding her keeping easy pace with Kiara's long strides.
"That they couldn't, after a while. They became a part of this place." Kiara's eyes rove over the encroaching mountain as it looms before them and her expression betrays some mingling curiosity and hesitation as they begin to navigate along the makings of a trail. "If the storm is really gone, that's going to change everything, isn't it?" She seems to be directing this at Henry, her eyes carefully focused on where she's stepping; fingers tightening where they grip at the fabric straps of her bag.
"Places that were cut off from us." There's this tiny flicker that darts through her eyes, the colors in them here seem to spark and react; gleaming as her mouth flexes at some expressive little reaction.
"Not just from us."
Book of Myths
Henry glances at Kiara when she falls in at his side. Her words bring a slightly sobered expression into his eyes (the irises are all glitter - swirling motes of teal and violet.) "Those stories are all too true, I'm afraid. Those who get lost here lose their connection to the mortal realm. When that happens, they become like ghosts. When the Storm first hit, many of our realms became graveyards. But..." He smiles reassuringly. "We are not going there today."
"Hopefully," Red murmurs.
They reach the base of the mountain, and there's a sense of being on some kind of precipice. Kiara poses her question and both Henry and Red stop to look at her. There's dawning comprehension on both of their faces when they realize the full implications of what it means that the Storm is gone. Not just for them, but for everyone.
"Ah, yes." Henry's voice is quiet as he looks down at the earth, frowning a little. "This will change things for all of us, I suspect. Perhaps it will be different this time."
There's something a little ambivalent in the way Red glances at him, but if he has any other thoughts, he doesn't speak them aloud.
The ascent up the trail is steep enough that the travelers are forced to pay attention to their footing. Red, being the most nimble, has little trouble hopping over the occasional stones that get in their way. Henry's pace slows a little at the steepest point, forcing the fox to pause and wait for him. He is spry for an old man, and more youthful here than he is in the physical realm, but there are times when his age shows. When he has to stop for a moment and catch his breath; when his joints complain at the abuse he puts them through. Still, they keep good time, and inevitably the slope evens out. Here the path drops off sharply at one side. Looking down...
It's as though they've been climbing all night. Have they? It certainly didn't feel that way. Perhaps time works differently here.
Perhaps distance works differently.
The cliff is steep, but the trail is wide enough to accommodate the travelers, and for now the mountain seems disinclined to make their journey more hazardous. The five of them wind their way along the curving path, hands stretched out to trail along the rock-face at their other side as though it were an anchor against the steep abyss. Above them the sky is even more alive. Stars gleam and shimmer. Now and then the constellations come alive and chase each other across the heavens.
Finally the hovering light comes to a stop. They've reached the end of the trail, it seems. Up ahead, it cuts off sharply, as though whoever built it simply ran out of mountain. But where there ought to be nothing but open air, there is instead a shimmering trail of moonlight leading off into the distance.
"Ah, a moon bridge!" Henry exclaims, sounding pleased.
Elijah
He wonders, briefly, what that felt like. Losing your connection to the physical world, slipping off until you were nothing but the idea of what you were, experiencing the second death where everyone who knew you fades off to do whatever it is people do when they pass on (hopefully reincarnate, but it doesn't always work out. He knows that). He wonders what that must have been like, if people went on with acceptance or just went on with their days like the string quartet on the Titanic.
It isn't a mournful thought, though. Too far removed from the actuality of it that he can't quite think of it beyond terms of a mere thought exercise. It keeps him occupied in the brief moments when he is more than just a body that is moving. There's a sort of zen in movement, a joy in having a challenge and feeling the possibility of taking the wrong step at the wrong time.
He waits for Henry. Tries not to make a big show of the fact that when his joints fail to cooperate or he needs to catch his breath that he's concerned. Doesn't hover but, well, is the kind of concerned that comes when one is fond of another person.
The mountain grows tired of making their journey hazardous, though and soon they're at-
"Where's this one go?" brows raised, not yet breathless but perhaps there not for sake of exhaustion but, rather, because of where they were. They'd been traveling all night, or maybe it just seemed as such. He didn't feel the need to mark the passage of time, save for the fact that they'd been moving long enough that... no, he wasn't hungry.
Hmmn. That was new.
Kiara
Perhaps it will be different this time.
Kiara, like Red, doesn't outwardly respond to Henry's offered hope for things to be different this time but there's the sense that the Verbena remains troubled by the prospect, even as she turns her attention to climbing the summit of the mountain.
The brunette is no stranger to hiking and Kiara's long legs eat up the ground easily enough; though she, like the others, makes use of the rock-face at one side to brace herself; her foot, at one point, nudging a small smattering of pebbles over the edge of the mountain. They scatter loose and drift over the edge into nothingness below and the pagan's eyes follow them downward for a beat, caught up, for a moment, in the wonderment of what lay beneath them.
Of just how far they'd climbed.
Ah, a moon bridge!
The Verbena edges closer as Elijah questions where it leads, the shimmering incandescence drawing the brunette's fascination. She leans into the point where the mountain simply - ends, the crystal around her neck sliding out of her shirt; winking in the light as it untwists on its length of silver chain.
"Down the rabbit hole." She murmurs with a glance over a shoulder at Elijah, this brief, sharp little smile.
Book of Myths
Where's this one go?
It's Red who answers, his eyes cast out across the distant expanse laid out before them. "Earthside? If memory serves, this one empties out in Northern Canada. Though I doubt that's our final destination."
Trailing at the back of the group, Leah pokes her head around to observe the moon bridge with a quietly wondrous expression. It's the first time she's seemed really present since they started climbing. "Canada's a long ways off."
"That's the thing about moon bridges, my dear..." Henry turns to address her with a smile. "They take you where you need to go, and quickly. The thing is, they do tend to attract attention."
"Listen." Red interrupts Henry with a firm tone, glancing up at his companion with an expression that feels almost cautioning. Like maybe his warning is as much intended for him as for the rest of them - though surely the old man has had plenty of experience with these things. The fox turns to fully address the group. From where he stands, a faint breeze whispers through his fur, and the light from the bridge gives his delicate form a little halo. "This is very important. Once you step onto this bridge, you cannot leave it. No matter what you see or hear. If you do, you'll be lost. And whatever's out there will take you. Understand?"
There's an ominous cast to his warning, but perhaps that's necessary. Henry glances down at his familiar with a soft smile and pats him on the head. "Red is right. But don't be afraid. If we stick to the path, whatever's out there won't be able to hurt us."
"Unless we run into someone else on the bridge. We should be careful. Werewolves like to use these."
"Well, if we run into a werewolf, I'm sure we can make friends."
At that, Red just gives an amused snort. "Alright you lot, let's go." Then he turns and sets his paws onto what should be open air. Except it isn't, and somehow the moonlight holds his weight. He gives another glances back and flicks his tail, indicating that they should follow. Henry takes a breath, all sparkling excitement once again, and steps out onto the bridge behind him.
Elijah
He has to poke it.
He can't help himself, he takes a few steps forward, puts his hand out and pushes on the bridge like he can't quite fathom how light is going to hold them on the way across- it's different int heories than it is in practice, and there he is. Inhales slow and deep and that smile is fond. Pleased. Quiet because he's been quiet for awhile, possibly overcome with the majesty of the whole thing.
"Okay, so basic moonbridge etiquette- keep your hands to yourself, don't fall off, don't be awkward with werewolves?"
Waitaminute.
He blinks. There are werewolves, big angry things that could probably eat him whole. He blinked again for good measure, but shook his head when he figures that, surely, people will keep their ways to themselves on what seems to equate to a spiritual highway. He bumped Kiara with his hip, not enough to really do more than let his presence be known and it was off onto the bridge.
"Didn't even need a passport."
Moonbridges, he concludes, are freaking amazing.
Kiara
There's a moment after Red offers his pronouncement that Kiara stills, her arms crossing over her chest, eyes traveling between the pair as they argue the particulars of travel after this point. She seems to take the familiar's warning to heart, her mouth curled downward into a frown of consideration as she lets her gaze slip along the moonbridge and then they tick back, those dark eyes at mention of werewolves.
There's a small, sharp breath taken in and Elijah's comment (and hipbump) are returned with a brief little expression of humor, though it's punctuated by something sobering - there's wariness to the way the pagan sets foot out onto that bridge; feeling forward and pausing, just once, to cast a glance over her shoulder, back the way they'd come.
Not hesitation to press on so much as - consideration, of what lay behind them.
Her fingers reach for the crystal around her neck and close around it and perhaps only Leah is close enough to hear the invocation that Kiara offers up, before they begin.
Goddess, guide our steps.
Book of Myths
Henry gives a hearty laugh at his apprentice's succinct summary of affairs. There's a reason the two of them get along so well. They seem to share similar outlooks on a great many things.
One by one, they take turns looking out over the dark abyss, and one by one, they step out onto a stretch of silver light that miraculously holds their weight. At first it seems like little more than a shaft of moonbeam, but as they walk the bridge opens up and grows more solid. After a few yards, it widens enough to allow two or three of them to travel side by side. The pathway is lit by a cool silver glow, but beyond the scope of the bridge the darkness feels impenetrable. It isn't long before the mountain disappears behind them. There's a sense that they really are committed now.
Into the unknown.
At first. the journey is quiet. Peaceful, even. It's difficult to tell exactly how far or how fast they're moving, but the air has a slightly cooler feel to it than it did on the mountain. Up ahead, the floating orb of light hovers along, leading them to their eventual destination.
Then the noises start.
It's starling, at first. A low, guttural moan sounds from somewhere in the blackness. Soon it's joined by others - both distant and near. There are other sounds too: clicks and scrapes growls and some kind of whirring noise. They come and go, fading in and out. Whatever's out there, none of them can see it. Does that make it more or less frightening?
Leah, walking beside Kiara, reaches out to grasp her hand in a tight grip. The fire along her skin flickers low for a moment before she suddenly snaps, "Shut up!" And her entire body erupts into flame. Thankfully, the heat of it doesn't burn where it washes over Kiara. But she will feel the smoldering prickle of the girl's anger and, for a moment, the air around her smells like ash.
Oddly, the sounds do stop. For a time.
Things have just begin to settle when Elijah will notice a small, bioluminescent ball floating just outside the perimeter of the bridge. As it nears, the shape of it becomes more defined, and he can see what looks like a soft, blue-green mop of fur held aloft by tiny fairy wings. Then there's a blink as it opens wide, puppyish eyes.
It makes a sound, soft and curious - like a combination kitten mewl and bird whistle - and stares at Elijah plaintively.
Elijah
[Wits+cosmology: Ooooooh, I wanna touch iiiiiiit]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (3, 3, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )
Book of Myths
Elijah has never seen any creature like this before, nor has he read about it in any of Henry's books. What he does know, however, is that there are a lot of spirits out there who like to play tricks on unsuspecting mages (and hadn't Red just warned them not to step off the bridge? hadn't Henry just said that they were going to attract attention?) This thing is adorable, granted. And man, those eyes. Those sounds. It's almost impossible not to want to reach out and touch it.
And maybe that's the point. Maybe that's what it wants. Maybe it's a lure.
For what? Possibly, something decidedly less adorable.
Elijah
He dreams about this. He used to, anyway. Every night, he'd dream of the stars going out one by one and the spaces where there was right and truly Nothing... until he realized there was something there. This is the place he goes when his very essence is insistent. His shadow seems all but gone, the wind that is not the wind shifts and his eyes- for once dark instead of that vibrant green- focus on the space between them.
There's a strange sort of understanding when there's that moan, those sounds that should scare him but one has to understand, he knows this. He feels this, dreamt of it, had the horrified terror not a year ago. This time last year he was screaming it out with his avatar, through a chair at Pan's wall and pleaded to make his own mistakes, to let him live his life instead of whatever his avatar was trying to warn him about.
This was it, though.
The noises start, the beings beyond their senses and then there's something small and sweet and those cute sounds and he does respond, doesn't shy away from the fact that he does have a base reaction to something that was freaking adorable, but...
This was four years of his life. Every night. Things that didn't make sense that played havoc with his imagination and now, finally now, it made sense. He thinks of the Keeper of Secrets, thinks of a light like Hope that dangles in front of a mouth that would do more than consume. A light for the depserate. He straightens, and the wonder does not come off his face because he's long since started to make peace with the fact that the horror was part of the wonder.
"You're a bit like an angler fish, aren't you?" he tells the little ball of cuteness, continues on his path with something that feels like a man who is resolute. Strange, because he'd been known as indecisive. Not strange, because he feels at home for once, like this was the kind of thing he was born to be doing and wouldn't be swayed so easily.
His echo still comes, half a second behind, more clear like a warning to whatever was out there, we will not be so easily tempted. It's the strength that Elijah has but doesn't show. Doesn't seem to realize- when they're in sync they'd be unstoppable. His aura flashes something like a wisp- something blue and shimmering, something like approval without speaking it.
Some things are unspoken and need to remain as such.
Kiara
Kiara's soothing halo of color, the whirling, pulsating greens and silvers have threaded through with red, now. There's a suggestion of darker tones, of earthier browns and golds and when Leah reaches out to grasp her hand; they ignite with a little burst of vivid punctuation at the touch; the edges around the brunette flicker-dancing as Leah's temper erupts at the moaning and crying.
Their resonances combine and for just a second, there's fire dancing along both the Verbenae before it passes and, Kiara's fingers curl around Leah's hand; her thumb stroking over her palm in a tiny, wordless gesture of comfort; the soothing balm of her energy swirling around the other woman.
"Aisling used to tell me that there's so many things we don't understand about the Umbra," Kiara offers softly; perhaps to distract Leah (and who knew, maybe Elijah, too, when she glimpses the way he's distracted by something beyond the limits of the bridge). "The rules we think exist, really don't." Kiara's eyes slip beyond the shimmering, silvery trail they walk along.
"We think of right and wrong in human terms but - that's not the currency of the Umbra, not really. I don't know if anything would hurt us because it has the intention to, but - " There's a pause, Kiara's shoulders lift in the barest suggestion of a shrug. "How do you articulate intent when it comes to things that aren't human, to what's out there - " her eyes tick away again.
"I'd imagine we must be so bright. Like a spotlight drawing them in."
Book of Myths
You're a bit like an angler fish, aren't you?
Beside him, the fluttering ball of eyes and fluff makes a deflated sound, its wings drooping. Perhaps Elijah will even wonder, for a moment, if he'd made a mistake. Surely there were things out there that were simply curious - that did not intend them harm. But then the ball floats out of view, and the sound of something hissing can be heard out in the darkness. There's a soft slide of shifting coils, and another low, alien click-click-click.
Then the air is quiet again.
Leah's blistering mood settles into something quieter, more thoughtful as she listens to Kiara speak. Even Henry turns around, throwing an appreciative glance over his shoulder. He doesn't interrupt, but he does give Kiara a small nod of thanks.
"It's funny," Leah offers, her voice whisper-quiet. "I remember very little about the Umbra. Other things from other lives I remember. But... " she frowns. "I could hear them in my head. They wanted to take my light. My fire. Yours too." She glances up and looks at Elijah, at Henry, then back to Kiara. Finally she releases Kiara's hand. "I'm sorry I got angry."
There are no more encounters after that. It isn't long before they find themselves looking ahead at what appears to be the end of the bridge. When they step off onto solid ground, they find themselves in the center of a forest glade. This one, though, has a decidedly more wintry feel than the one where they began. The air, even here in the penumbra, is cold enough to make their breath create little plumes of steam, and the ground is coated in a thick, glittering layer of snow. It crunches beneath their feet when they step onto it. The trees around them are ancient evergreens, their trunks wide and knotted, their needles dusted with ice and snow.
When the beacon of light reaches the center of the clearing, it stops, hovering in place. When Henry walks up to it, it remains in place, and he frowns.
"Hmm. That's odd. Perhaps we should look around for a gateway?"
Book of Myths
[Edit: that was supposed to say "When Henry walks up to it, it remains still"]
Kiara
[Perception + Awareness, hmm.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 1 )
Elijah
he does doubt, and there is a moment that there is a feeling that, perhaps, there may be things out there that are merely curious and perhaps there are. Perhaps it may be the host of one of those alien sounds but being the subject of a spirit's curiosity did nto set well with him. Not when it was so far beyond human comprehension that he had no frame of reference to begin from.
Briefly, Elijah wonders how Jenn would paint the spaces in between. How she would communicate that yawning forever with differing shades of nothingness.
"You can totally be angry. There's nothing inherently wrong with that," he remarks, pipes up for a second before going back to just observing the world around them. Taking in the sounds not as comforts but as things that pinged on his imagination. He wasn't deterred.
Once they depart the bridge, he's hit with the smell. Elijah inhales, slow and deep and feels the cold in his lungs. He exhales, refreshed. Though, the ball of light stops and he stops with it. Quirks his mouth to the side, makes a little sound that sounds a tad like mrph and his attentions go to the area around him. Maybe there was something here?
[Per+aware]
Dice: 7 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Book of Myths
It isn't immediately clear precisely what they're meant to find. Looking around the glade, there's nothing that stands out as any kind of door or gateway. No shimmering pools or magical wardrobes. What Kiara and Elijah can feel, however, is a faint whisper of icy breath gusting over their skin. There's something about it - the way it feels colder than the rest of the air around them. And it seems to be coming not from the open spacesbetween the trees, but from one of the trees itself.
Like it's... breathing.
Elijah
He stops, perks up and straightens like he noticed something, a shift in the wind. He looks at Kiara for a second, as if he was confirming that wasn't just her resonance, and he then looked over at a tree. And thus, he meandered on that way to inspect the trees a little more thoroughly.
Kiara
They wanted to take my light. Yours too.
Something about that, what Leah says, seems to impact the other Verbena. Kiara's dark eyes shift back to Leah and as the other woman apologizes for losing her temper and draws away; Kiara's hand touches the small of her back in a fleeting gesture; a tiny brush of her fingers there and gone. A tactile reaffirmation, perhaps, that she was there and that, even unspoken - the other female understood.
The scene they step out into is reminiscent of a storybook; snow tipped evergreens and a thick layer on the ground; Kiara's breath mists out before her as she raises her eyes to the towering trees; turning in a tight circuit slowly as the orb comes to a halt; hovering in the center of the glade.
That's odd.
The Verbena's attention, however, has been captured by a particular tree. She feels Elijah's interest; the movement that draws her eyes to him and she nods minutely after a beat, turning toward the others. "I think it's over here." She nods after the direction Elijah's taken off in, his footprints leading the way toward the treeline.
The Verbena's fingers ghost out, tracing the air. "Can you feel it?"
She's slower to approach the tree, Kiara, but her dark eyes are bright with interest.
Book of Myths
Leah notices it too, the brush of frozen air that seems to emanate from one of the trees. She turns when Elijah does, but doesn't follow. Instead she stands there in the snow, her flames flickering low in the winter air. Her body gives this little shiver as she pulls her flannel more tightly around her torso.
"We're going somewhere cold," she murmurs, and there's a faint edge of unhappiness in her voice.
"Would you like a blanket my dear?" Henry walks up and places his hand on Leah's shoulder. She gives a little jump, then looks over and shakes her head.
"I'm okay."
Meanwhile, Kiara and Elijah approach the treeline. The closer they get, the colder the air feels. The gusts of frigid breath draws slowly in and out of an old, scarred hollow in the trunk.
Can you feel it?
"I think you're right." Red comes up behind her, gazing up into the evergreen's huge, sweeping branches. "Come on Henry."
With Henry and Leah trailing after, the little glowing orb finally begins to move again. It floats along toward the tree, passing over Kiara's shoulder. When it gets there, it hits the trunk and just... vanishes.
Are they meant to walk through it? Red huffs thoughtfully, gives a little flick of his tail and hops straight into the tree. When he does, he disappears too.
"After you," Henry offers with a smile, gesturing for the others to go ahead.
Elijah
When the air siezes in his lungs, when all he feels is the unforgiving cold, Elijah beams. Shivers, yes, but isn't terribly daunted by the fact that it is cold and, for some reason, he hadn't actually prepared for it to be cold but he was excited none the less.
The orb vanishes, as does Red, and Elijah has the moment where it seems to dawn on him that just going through would be a terrible plan since he is likely the only one who hasn't the foggiest idea as to what he is doing, but? It hasn't stopped him before and thus, he puts his hands out, closes his eyes, and makes a run for the tree, fully prepared to fall flat on his face.
Or, you know, make it through the door. Everything about his expression screams this is a bad idea and yet he goes with it. It suits ELijah somehow.
Kiara
Red hops into the tree and vanishes, Elijah too, makes a sudden run for it and pops out of sight, as if he were never there to begin with but Kiara, her lips parted and eyes wide, instead raises both her hands and traces it over the seam where the worlds seem to lash together. Her expression is - a complex puzzle of rapt fascination and uncertainty.
Everything about what made the Verbena who she was seemed to contradict the place they were going; somewhere bound in a frozen stasis and here was a creature who seemed to pulse with vitality itself; the bloom of spring seeking to thaw the snow beneath her feet; to dissipate the chill even as she breathed it out.
Henry's waiting for the others to cross and eventually, when her tentative exploration is done, she does. There's meaning to it that perhaps there isn't for the others, of course, literal and not simply connection into a manifestation with nature. Of it. First her hands, then arms; a strange, dreamy look stealing over Kiara's features.
"Oh, it feels - " She doesn't quite finish it; slides out of sight, instead; there and then - just her footprints, left in the snowy ground.
Kiara
["literal and not simply figurative connection", I know what I meant.]
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