He was in the process of getting a wig upgrade when I brought them all out for a group photo. I just popped on his old wig over my current work.
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@naren-isturon
He was in the process of getting a wig upgrade when I brought them all out for a group photo. I just popped on his old wig over my current work.
Naren - The Healer
(( Original Fiction - Knights of Naren - #Fictober Day 1 Prompt: “Can you feel this?” ))
War had come, and it was far too close. Injured from one of the armies was being sent to the small town for medical services, and Isturon was unhappy to be putting his talents to use. It would be better if they stopped fighting.
A few more had been brought in today. They lay in makeshift beds on the benches within the temple. All of the real beds and cots they had were occupied. He had done his best to stabilize the patients. Healing magic was complicated and a lot of people didn’t understand that they needed to rest between treatments. Speeding up the healing of an injury too fast could very well kill a person.
He passed amongst them now, casting pain-dulling spells on them. That usually quieted most complaints, and luckily most of them were quite willing to sleep at this hour. He himself was hoping he’d get to sleep soon too.
“Elder?” A whispered voice came from one of the benches. He looked down. It was the civilian girl who had been brought in. She had been sleeping peacefully on his last pass through.
He knelt next to her, “What is it?”
“Am I going to die?”
“You’re going to live.” He gave her a gentle smile, hoping that was all she asked for now. The extent of her injuries had him worried about what her quality of life might be and whether she could ever fully heal.
“I can’t move my legs.”
Those were not the words he wanted to hear. He pulled the blanket up over her feet and put his palm on the bottom of her foot. “Can you feel this?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Will I be able to walk again?”
He wasn’t sure how to answer that. Things weren’t looking good, but it was early. Perhaps, with time, it could be healed. “It’s still too early to tell. We’re going to do everything we can for you, okay?”
She frowned slightly but nodded.
“Get some rest for now,” he said as he covered her feet again with the blanket. “Give the healing time to work.”
She nodded again and closed her eyes as he got up to move on to the next patient.
Today marks the two year anniversary of Isturon’s head arriving. He is a Les Enfants Terribles Don. He’s getting a little love as my character of the week: new stories, a new robe, restringing, and hot glue sueding. However, I did want to get a photo to mark the anniversary, so excuse his messy hair as I had him half undressed for pattern making already.
I finished Isturon’s new robe today. It’s my first time putting a zipper in any item, and I didn’t mess it up, so I’m pretty happy with it.
Naren - The Temple Boy
Garin Lightmist held his son’s hand tightly as they walked into the town. He wasn’t sure how much his son understood what was about to happen, but after looking into the options, Garin could see no other way. His son would not go to Thril Gandir. Marillis had been firm about that. Her own sister had gone, wound up losing visiting privileges, and they never heard from her again. She didn’t want that to happen to her only son, nor did Garin.
He headed straight to the temple, the boy still held one hand, and the boy’s clothes and a toy bear that he preferred were carried in a bag in Garin’s other hand. His own things for the overnight trip were in a bag he carried on his back. He’d have preferred to not wait until the last second, but Marillis didn’t want to let him go any sooner than she had to. Garin and their son had waited until just this morning before piling into the carriage going northeast.
They started up the temple steps. “Where are we going, Opa?”
They’d been over this before. “Remember when Oma said you were going somewhere safe and where we could visit you?”
The boy just looked up at him.
“This is going to be your new home.” He said indicating the temple.
“I don’t want a new home.”
“Shh,” Garin said, picking the boy up to carry him the rest of the way, hoping to keep him from crying and making a scene. “The people here are really nice, and they’re going to take care of you and teach you how to read and write. You want to read and write, don’t you?”
The boy nodded. Garin pulled open one of the big wooden doors. He stopped to ask the first person he saw who was wearing religious robes, “Where can I find Elder Elisabet Moll? I wrote and have an appointment. She should be expecting me.”
The man pointed, “The offices are over there. Hers is the first door on the right.”
Garin nodded and gave a small bow, “Thank you, Elder.”
He continued carrying his son until he reached the door. He put him down and held his hand while knocking on the door with his other hand.
“Enter.”
He opened the door and brought his son in with him.
“Garin Lightmist?”
Garin nodded.
“Close the door behind you.”
Garin did as asked.
“And who do we have here?” she asked, directing the question to the boy.
His son took a couple steps to hid behind Garin.
“He’s shy.”
“We have a couple of other boys here. Maybe they’ll help him feel more at ease.” She looked again at the boy, “Would you like to meet them later? We all eat supper together.”
The boy didn’t answer, and continued to hide behind his father.
“I’d like to thank you again for taking him in. His mother couldn’t bear to send him…”
“Say nothing more of it. There are no such things as mages here. Only talented healers and helpers. You said his hands glowed yellow when he was tested?”
Garin nodded. The reflection spell was used on all newborn infants on their name days. Most babies reflected blue if they had magic, but sometimes other colors were reflected. His son reflected yellow, indicating he would be strong in healing magic. That fact alone had Elisabet’s interest from the start. She had stated more than once that magic was a gift, and the people of Naren had rejected that gift by creating Thril Gandir to keep the mages under control.
“Can I see your hand?” she asked, again talking to the boy.
The boy shook his head.
Garin knelt next to his son, “It’s okay. She just wants to see how strong your magic is. She wants to teach you how to use it without having to send you to Thril Gandir. You want Oma and I to be able to visit, right?”
The boy regarded his father, then looked at Elisabet and held out his hand. He brushed a few stray strands of his dark red hair out of the way with his other hand.
Elisabet held her hand over his, leaving a few inches in between as she cast a spell. The boy’s hand began to glow a warm yellow. “Oh, he’s going to be very strong in healing magic.”
Garin smiled. “That’s what they said when he was tested.”
“Well, I want to teach him, but I need to know his name first.” Garin had mentioned his name numerous times in correspondence with her, but he knew her statement wasn’t directed towards him. She knelt in front of the boy. “Won’t you tell me your name? My name is Elisabet, but the kids usually just call me Elisa.”
The boy drew back slightly, but opened his mouth and spoke quietly, “I’m Isturon.”
“Well, Isturon, you have a nice name. Would you like to go see your room? Your Opa can come with us.”
Isturon nodded slightly, glancing at his father.
“Come on, let’s go see your room.”
Naren - The Change
Once, just once, he wished his sister would do something to make him happy to be associated with her, but here he found himself wishing again that he didn’t know her at all. At least his request for a temporary adahi for the holiday had been granted. He was able to spend a few days at home with his parents without the association with her hanging over him.
“Everyone looks at me the moment they hear my name as if I’d do the same thing,” Sanimir complained. His temporary adahi, a pipe smoker, had stepped out, and he finally had some time to talk to his father, Isturon, alone.
“But what she did was within the rules, son.”
“If she’s following rules, watch out. You’ll be next,” he grumbled.
His father glanced at the door. The adahi had just left, but he was right to be nervous. A rogue mage was a rogue mage, no matter if his children were in Thril Gandir or not.
Sanimir frowned, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“She knows what would happen. She wouldn’t.”
“She knew what would happen to those children too, yet she still did it. A whole class of ten-year-olds just got marks against their records. Marks so bad that they can’t get even temporary adahis to visit their homes now. Marks for a thing that I, myself, used to do.”
His father raised a brow. “You slipped out of the dormitory windows while you were supposed to be asleep?”
“It’s actually somewhat of a tradition. After your tenth name day, it isn’t long before you’re moved to another building. The children’s building is the only one with a wall along the outside. It’s well-known that the wards are a distance out away from the wall, and after the guardians check that everyone’s in bed, they don’t check again without a good reason. So the kids slip out to climb the hill that overlooks the ocean before they have to move to another building. I think most of the guardians know about it, but they know no one is trying to escape. They’re just being kids.”
“I suppose you were lucky none of the guardians were like your sister when you did it.”
“None have been. I’ve never heard of anyone getting in trouble for it, until now. Now, even my roommate wants to switch rooms because I’m a Lightmist. Everyone knows I’m related to her, and they think I must be like her.”
“Your roommate should know better,” his father said, glancing again at the door.
“I know. Anyway, there’s a reason I wanted to come home for this Name Day celebration.”
“What is the reason?”
Sanimir took a deep breath, “I want to change my name in the town records. My last name as well. I can’t take being stuck in Thril Gandir with her and sharing the same last name.”
“Your mother won’t be happy. Do you intend to change your first name as well?”
Sanimir nodded.
“You’re fifteen. I believe you are old enough to decide for yourself so I will permit it. I do hope you intend to speak to your mother about it before the naming ceremony tomorrow.”
“I will. I didn’t expect her to be happy, but I do hope she’ll understand.”
His father nodded. “Do you have a name picked out?”
“I do. It’s Hethurin Fairsong.”
Tintern Abbey, Wales
photo via marienne
Did my time, took my chances
This is Isturon Lightmist. He exists both in WoW rp and in my Naren stories. In WoW, he is a healer who lives in Silvermoon and is the father of six grown children. …Or seven if you count the timey wimey one. In Naren, he is a rogue mage with the gift of healing, which he keeps quiet. He works as a priest in the temple at Elal’s Fork, a small town in central east Naren. He only has four grown children in the Naren universe (Vallindra, Nessna, Aranae and Hethurin). Two of them are mages (Vallindra and Hethurin) who were taken to Thril Gandir as children.
I made his outfit, and though there are some obvious flaws, I’m fairly happy with it. I would like to redo eventually, maybe this summer. It should be easy to adjust and fix, and I kept the pattern I made for it, so it’s just a matter of digging it out of the pattern box. I bought the gloves off ebay. The boots are from Mirodoll, and his glasses are from Dollmore.
A quick photoshoot with Isturon, Valentine’s flowers and snow.
The Song
(( This story goes back to the July 3rd prompt for a story that features a song or poem. I didn’t pick an actual song or poem, and I’m not confident enough with my poetry skills to start now, so I wrote a story that has music sorta featured in it. This is set in Naren, and happens after book 1 but before Isturon is featured in his own book. ))
Isturon Lightmist sighed as he sat down at the table in the inn. It was a long trip from Elal’s Fork to Hollowmont. He wasn’t even sure of the name of the town they had stopped at for the night. He was too old for this, but he wanted to get away. He couldn’t stay in Elal’s Fork anymore. Well, he could have, if Verisna had left, but no. She flaunted her new lover in front of everyone, taking walks through the center of town while holding his arm, and kissing him when he left her at the door to the home.
OUR home. No. It wasn’t his anymore. He had left, and he had mostly forgiven her, though he couldn’t shake his own feeling of shame. Things had been difficult for him ever since most of the family was held prisoner in Moressley.
A waitress approached his table and asked, “Anything I can get you? We have imported drinks from all over to satisfy the thirst of many travelers. We also have a varied menu if you’re hungry.” She pointed at the board where the drinks and dishes were listed.
“Just a glass of water and a bowl of vegetable soup, thank you.”
She quickly trotted off to the kitchen, leaving Isturon to his thoughts once more.
Up on the small stage set up in one corner, a girl started playing a song on a lute. Isturon listened as his thoughts wandered.
His son had offered him a room in his home until he was feeling better. He was grateful that his children didn’t harbor any ill-feelings towards him after their ordeal. His wife— No, his ex-wife, blamed him. It was true he could have fought back while they were held prisoner, but that would have also revealed him as being a mage to any who saw. Though his specialty was healing magic, he knew enough offensive spells that he could have used them. He still didn’t think it would be enough to fight off all the guards in the castle they had been kept in. He had managed to pass undetected throughout his entire life. Two of his children were mages, but no one ever questioned him. Getting caught while trying to escape would have just ended with him in more trouble than before, and possibly trouble for his children as well, even if they were trained at Thril Gandir.
The song was sad and slow, and Isturon found himself wishing that the girl would play something more lively. The waitress returned with the water and soup, leaving it on the table in front of him, as Isturon started listening to the lyrics. The girl had a heavy accent, but Isturon couldn’t place it. He understood most of the words anyway. The tune was, at it’s core, about missed opportunities and regret, but the refrain stated that there was always a brighter tomorrow. Isturon’s ear twitched. He’d lived long enough to not fall into that trap. The missed opportunities and regrets would always be there. Good times and bad times would both continue to happen. The next day was not always brighter.
He started eating his soup. Tomorrow was definitely not going to be brighter. Today’s leg of the journey had them passing under bright skies, but just as they stopped the wagon at the town, dark clouds started rolling in.
Tomorrow promised to be absolutely miserable.
Isturon’s robe is mostly done. I just need to sew some snaps and clasps on. I’m using safety pins in the meantime!
There’s a few areas that need improvement, but I will be using the pattern I made for this robe with a few adjustments for future robes for my dolls representing my mages in Naren.
I am not done, but it’s far enough along that I can pin pieces into place. I need to hem the parts that hang down in the front yet, and attach the cross ribbon to the fabric behind it. I’m extremely happy with the progress so far!
The under robe is done. The outer robe is kinda just a piece of cloth draped over him and tied into place. I’ll need to blush at least his neck to match his face. Whole body would probably be better, but I’m lazy and he dresses modestly so…
I finally got to play with my new drawing software today and I’m loving it. This is Isturon Lightmist in palette #99. It’s the last day of palette month and I’d like to think I learned something from being forced to choose from only a limited color selection. We’ll see if it improves my other work.
One last time, the palettes I chose from can be found here.