#alythar

[silverkiiri]

Tsore and Alythar all dressed up for a fancy party. Probably as a disguise, since neither of them would ever do this on purpose. 

[silverkiiri]

Gigi story - part 1.5

This is the part between "The Beginning" and the introduction of the companions. More Avariel being confused and overwhelmed, and Alythar being a mysterious coolkid. 

Avariel managed to swim groggily back to consciousness to find that she was stretched out on a long, low couch. The room was lit by only a single candle, which seemed to make more shadow than light. She sat up slowly, confused. This was not her personal chamber, nor any other room she was familiar with from her father's home. Aside from the couch and the small table, there was nothing else in the room at all, not even a window to shed light.  She put a hand to her throbbing head and looked around curiously, trying to ignore the tingle of fear in her gut. This was no place she knew. The stones of the walls were irregular shapes and sizes, and a black she had never seen before, almost like glass, not like the rows of identical gray bricks and smooth plaster that made up the Baron's fortress... and she had never been outside that fortress for more than a quick outing at her father' side, certainly not to sleep.   From the back of her mind, in the same place where she had closed and locked away most of her childhood memories, a thought kept trying to intrude, but she pushed it away savagely. There was something, some memory or realization, that wanted her attention, but she was determined to get somewhere she recognized before she stopped to think. This place was... maybe not evil, but not safe. Her rolling stomach and shaking hands were being very clear about that.  Avariel stood, finding that her feet had been divested of shoes while she slept, though her ripped stockings still clung half-heartedly to bruised and bloody legs. With a wince, she bent to straighten them as best as she could, trying not to look too hard at the state of her skin in the dim light. With a quick adjustment of skirts and a smoothing pat to her braided hair, she straightened her shoulders, put on the carefully blank expression she normally wore around her father and other dangerous strangers, and pulled open the heavy door.  The hallway outside wasn't much of an improvement on lighting, but after a long moment of lip-biting hesitation she remembered her pendant. It was still around her neck and unbroken, though it had acquired some scratches and scrapes in her mad scramble for freedom. Relieved, she traced the symbol and whispered, "In the dark be my guide, fill me with your sight." Her words, lost as they were in the enveloping darkness, seemed to stir something in the air, and whispers filled the corridor like a gust of cool wind. They swept by her after a confusing moment where it seemed the shadows all around her were reaching out to touch, to feel. She stumbled back from them, a strangled little whimper coming from her throat, and began to walk in the opposite direction the voices moved in, trying too keep her eyes straight ahead.  Her stocking feet made little noise on the rough stone of the floor as she moved, strangely muffled along with everything else, and she stayed in the middle of the hall, as much in the light as possible. The hall was lined with doors much like the one that she had been sleeping behind, and those she ignored. You never knew who was behind them.  She continued through the twisting, arching tunnel of a hallway until she came to a set of massive stone doors. they were twice as tall as she, and looked like they would have to be too heavy for her to open. She swayed, looking up at them with frustration. No one else was near, and she didn't know where else to go. Oh screw it. There had to be a way through. She sighed and then lifted a hand to the worn notches to try and pull them. To her surprise, her outstretched hand went right through the stone, revealing that it was actually made of thousands of strings of heavy beads. She knew her mouth was open like a fool, but the door had looked so real! She'd have sworn it was ancient and hewn out of a single piece of stone, but the beads gently clicking against one another told her that her first impression was an illusion, though an expertly crafted one. Hesitantly, she pushed her way through the curtain of beads, feeling them slither over her body like cool fingers, and moved into the large room beyond.  This must be the chapel.  Around the outside wall of the circular room were more doors that looked like the one Avariel was still standing in, three in total, with low stone benches sitting spaced out along the walls. There was no one else in the chapel as far as she could see, but the whispers from the hallway were had somehow followed her there, low murmurings, sobs, and chuckles just on the edge of hearing. It made the hair on her arms stand and she shivered before walking into the room. In the center was a statue, one that Avariel has seen before in miniature in her own small family chapel. She walked around it slowly until she was at the front, then stepped back so she could see the entire thing.  It was a woman, her body covered by a flowing black cloak, with both gloved arms spread before her in a gesture of invitation, or supplication. Hair tumbled down her back and around her face as if in a strong wind, obscuring much of her appearance, except for two gleaming red eyes that shone in the shadowed room. Her face was expressionless, and she was carved of dark marble, but Avariel felt as thought that statue was studying her in return.  She dropped to one knee, bending her head as she reached out and touched one of the statues cold gloved hands. "Dark Lady," she murmured respectfully, beginning one of the many prayers she had learned in her home chapel. "Thank you for your blessing-" From behind her, someone cleared their throat, and it was the politest sound she had ever heard, as if the speaker had found the perfect sound to convey "Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt, don't mind me, please do go on... but if you have second of free time I can just wait right here until you're ready." If a sound could wear a cute little tophat and twiddle its thumbs, this one did.  Amused, Avariel turned to face the speaker, and recognized the priest from the night before. (At the sight of his thin face a part of her tried to chip in, to remember why she was there, to tell her exactly what had happened the night before, but she pushed it back as ruthlessly as she had the others, intent on ignoring that line of thought as long as possible.) He pushed pack the hood of his long coat with thin, graceful fingers and smiled at her.  "I don't mean to interrupt," he said cautiously, and Avariel couldn't help but smile back.  "No, it's fine! I'm glad you're here. I was kinda of starting to wonder if maybe I wasn't dreaming. This place is a little... different." She smiled weakly back, trying to ignore the urge to latch on to his arm and babble about the voices she could still just barely hear over the quiet rustle of the wind (and if the wind was what she hear, why did none of the candle flames flicker?). She didn't want to seem crazy as a first (second, technically) impression.  The priest cocked his head to the side, then smiled gently, eyes crinkling in understanding. "Ah, the voices." He ignored her flinch. Was he a mind-reader? "They do get a little overwhelming sometimes when they are new. I'm afraid the only thing you can do is get used to them though. They are always present in Giadriana's temples. Some say it is the voices of her followers in prayer. Others say they are all her voices." He stepped closer to the statue and gestured toward it. "I personally think it is both." He turned back toward Avariel. She couldn't help but admire the way he moved, almost predatory, in the flickering light. His voice was obviously masculine, but his appearance, thanks to the shadows dancing across every surface, was enticingly androgynous, with dark golden hair to his collar and high cheekbones.  "Ah, but I'm sure you have other things to wonder about right now. I'm being rude." He bowed slightly from the waist. "My name is Alythar, cleric of Giadriana. And yours is..?" "Avariel," she replied, matching his bow with one of her own, perfectly crafted over a lifetime to convey just the right amount of respect. The importance of getting the depth perfect had been... beaten into her by the time she was presented to the public in her twelfth birthday. "Daughter of the Baron." (And there was that voice again, edging in, trying to tell her something. She physically shivered as she pushed it away.) "Thank you for your help last night, if that was last night." "It was," Alythar replied, his dark eyes studying her calmly. "You have slept for ten hours, give or take. Do you remember why you came here, Avariel, Baron's Daughter?" She stood. "To seek Sanctuary in the name of Giadriana." He nodded. "Good. Your mind is sound. We worried, after the blow to the head your friend said you took. We were not able to heal you beyond some common medicines. Such gifts are my Lady's to give." With a rustle of black fabric, he sat on one of the stone benches and patted the spot next to him in invitation. "So, you remember what was," he said once she had sat down. "Now what of what will be?" She looked at him for a long moment, then arched an eyebrow slowly when he didn't say anything. "Um, sorry?" His smile was a bit more genuinely amused. "What I mean, child, is this: What will you do next? Do you have a plan?" Avariel bit her lip and looked back at the statue, eyes tracing the details while she thought. "I'm not sure. I mean, I can hardly go home. Everyone is-" There is was again, that damn voice. She tried to shake it off, and the effort made her grimace. After moment, when her thoughts were back on track, she continued. "The Right of Annulment failed. I'm still alive. I have a duty to my people to go and prove it." She twisted her hands together and tried to imagine going through with what she was about to say, but she couldn't. She'd never been out of the city. She hadn't even been out of the Keep in over a year.  Alythar nudged her shoulder gently when she took too long to continue. "And how will you do that?" She laughed, short and bitter. "Oh, that part's easy. I just have to go to Thaliara Gwyndilon, which is so far from here it's almost comical to think about, and give testimony in front of representatives of every faith." She sighed, exhausted by the thought. "The hard part is going to be making myself leave." "Mmm, I think that the temple can help some, with your journey. You asked Sanctuary of us, and you wear our Lady's symbol. She is kind to her followers, Child. She will aid you in your quest, in her own way." "Quest..." Avariel stared at the scrapes and tears marring her stockings, rubbing one finger absently over a stain where blood had soaked through. "That word makes it seem so noble, like something out of a storybook." "Some stories are real," he companion replied amiably, standing and stretching gracefully. "After all, where do you think we got the idea of stories in the first place? Each has a nugget or truth at its core: a man or woman desperate enough that they take risks so great that other's speak of them for years to come." She looked up at him - he had to be at least six feet tall - and swallowed back tears that clung to her throat (she would not cry, no matter how kind he was; she had not cried in front of a stranger since she was six years old). "Aren't those people heroes?" He turned back around to face her, and the light illuminated his face clearly for the first time. He was... quite handsome, she noticed with something like shock. And not very old, either. From the way he talked, she would have added at least ten years to his age, but he seemed not much older than her, certainly nowhere near her father's age. He held out a hand to held her rise, his eyes meeting hers, and she felt like he could see right through her, see all her doubts and fears and shame. He touched her cheek gently, fingers light as a feather, and his eyes smiled kindly, flickering crimson for a moment so short she thought she had imagined it. "Not at first, my child. Never at first." 

[silverkiiri]

Part 2ish of the Gigi story

Yeah, this skips a bit, but it's the intro of the other companions. So here. 

"Allow me to introduce you to your guardians on your journey," Alythar said quietly, his voice muffled by the dense shadows of the hall.  Avariel blinked. "Guardians?"  The priest smiled slightly, eyes dark. "You didn't think we would just let you wander off to Thaliara Gwyndylon with no one to keep you safe, did you?"  "Honestly? Yeah, I kinda did," Avariel murmured, trying not to appear ungrateful.   "Here." Alythar opened one of the unmarked stone doors that lined the corridor. The room was dim, like most of the temple, lit only by a few candles. In the flickering light, Avariel could make out several figures gathered around a table. They had been conversing quietly, but stopped as she walked through the door.  "What's this?" asked the smallest figure from her place on the edge of the table. A flickering ball of light, pulsing and oddly colored, appeared in her hand and lit her features as it cast more light on the scene.  She was tiny, no more than four feet tall, and petite as well. Her eyes were slanted and large in her small face, and her mass of hair was braided tightly to her head and held back in a large bun with two braids trailing down out of it. Her ears were faintly pointed. She grinned when she saw Avariel start at the sight. "Not familiar with my kind, girl? Lucky you." Her eyes flickered to Alythar. "Who's the brat, priest? A sacrifice for that goddess of yours?"  "She doesn't smell like a sacrifice to me," said a husky female voice from the corner. The form that had been lounging there rose languidly and sauntered into the light from the tiny girl's spell. She was tall, almost six feet, and had chin-length hair that had apparently been chopped off with a dagger. It was the exact color of fresh blood. Avariel stared at it in fascination until the woman smiled. Instantly, her attention focused on the sharp teeth that filled her inviting mouth.  Shifter.  Only then did Avariel notice the way the light reflected from her wolf-gold eyes. She stepped back, unsure, and the woman chuckled. "No, no sacrifice is this one," she told the tiny girl. "She is scared, and smells of blood and death. She smells of betrayal."  The mage blinked and scrunched her nose skeptically. "...She smells of betrayal? That makes no sense, Adi. How can you even smell that?"  The taller woman, who was apparently Adi, snorted. "It is a mixture of smells and impressions that would be lost upon your dead senses." She sounded contemptuous, and maybe a tiny bit defensive.  The mage returned the snort mockingly. "Careful, dog. I'll set you on fire again if -"  "Enough, both of you." Alythar made an abrupt motion, and both girls stopped talking immediately. "This is Avariel."  "The princess of the Baron's household?" The new voice was male, but the speaker stayed in the shadows, a glint of light on his hooded eyes as he turned the only way Avariel knew where he was looking. "What is she doing here?"  Avariel took a deep breath, trying to fight back her confusion and dislike of strangers to speak like an adult. "My father's House is no more. I have sought Sanctuary in Giadriana's temple."  The ball of light pulsed brightly as the mage holding it started. "No more?! But that means she-"  "Yes, Karira," Alythar interrupted. "But that is for later."  "So," the hidden man remarked, "the bastard finally got taken out?" He leaned forward, and Avariel got a glimpse of dark hair falling into narrow eyes. "The Unspoken Right was enacted? But... not well, it seems."  Avariel's stomach tightened. The Unspoken Right, the Right of Annulment, was centuries old now. After the Reckoning that had destroyed the Old World, the land had been split too far asunder for the empires of the past to thrive. Instead, the world was divided into smaller communities that were usually centered around a defensive structure or a town that had partially withstood the destruction. The land between these small points of civilization was filled with chaos, darkness, and monsters that were the warped and rabid remains of the past.  There was no inter-community organization. For years after the  Reckoning , there wasn't even any communication at all between them. If it hadn't been for the temples, there might not have been for decades longer. But once settlements became more permanent and the remaining populations began to trade and aid one another, the inevitable greed arose as well.  Eventually, according to the books she had read, one man tried to seize power for himself. Known only as The Betrayer in legend, he attempted to kill the leader of a nearby community. He managed, but only because the man he killed had also been the one who had raised him from childhood, and refused to raise a hand against his own son. When he tried to take his adopted sister as his new wife, she ran to the gods for Sanctuary.  In the center of Thaliara Gwyndilon, the one place in the world that was sacred to every god, the girl told her story to the representatives of the gods, and they ruled swiftly and harshly in her favor. The Betrayer, and any who had supported him, were brought before the gods and executed.  After that day, there was a law that any who tried to take power through murder would be judged thusly if any witness would come to Thaliara Gwyndilon and present their case. So the Right of Annulment was created: to rule, every member of a household must die. Every man, woman, and child who might one day go before the Chosen and witness. Every servant and soldier who could attest to what had happened.  The Unpoken Right had been attempted few times, and not often with success.  "No," Avariel answered his unspoken question. "Not very well. And I will make sure that all my friends and family do not go unavenged."  "Ohh, a journey of vengeance and danger." Karira grinned brightly. "Sounds like a fun time!"  Adi smacked her on the back of the head. "A little sympathy might be in order, my bloodthirsty friend." She nodded more formally. "I regret the loss you must have felt this night, princess. May you be brought peace, by light or darkness."  Avariel nodded back, unsure of what to say. She was saved by the other man. "Well, I'm guessing you want us to be her guardians to the temple?"  "Right." Alythar motioned, and the walls flared with blood-red script for an instant before it faded back into invisibility. He shut the door behind him, and he and Avariel took two of the empty chairs at the table. "You three will accompany the princess to the temple, where she will witness against the man who did this."  "Why us?" The shifter sat in one of the padded chairs, crossing her long legs in front of her. Her eyes gleamed. "Why should we trek halfway across the known world to help anyone from the Baron's house?"  Karira nodded, yawning. "Adi's right. I don't remember signing up as a babysitter."  Avariel snarled. "I don't remember being so helpless that I need one, either!"  "Oh?" The shadowed man chuckled. "And how would you take care of yourself, princess?"  "Tsippore - "  "No, he has a good point," Adi purred. "Let him speak."  Alythar sat back with a resigned sigh. Tsippore continued. "You are the only known survivor of the attack on the Baron, a man with few friends and rather a lot of enemies. You are a girl who is untrained in the magic I see within her, and who has no idea how to use her body as a weapon. You have been kept within the fortress all your life, and your father kept you purposely ignorant on all matters of politics, geography, and the outside world. You have never had any close companion who might shelter you."  Avariel fought to control her expression, even as tears fell down her cheeks. The man continued, his voice still even and reasonable. "Tell me, princess: how do you plan on getting to the temple? You have a powerful enemy who wants you and knows exactly where you are. You don't know the way. You don't have any supplies, or money with which to take it. The attackers left a girl dead a the scene who was almost identical to you and dressed in your clothing. They are claiming it is you. That means they don't necessarily want to kill you, girl. They may want something more. And you think you can evade them alone?"  "How do you know all this?" Avariel whispered hoarsely.  Karira looked up from where she was playing with her ball of light, mouth twisted into something between a grin and a smirk. "Honestly, hon, it's just better not to ask some things."  Tsippore ignored the Fae's interruption. "I know what is known on the streets already. Words spreads quickly of happenings so dire and forces so disciplined. The reports say no one made it out alive. You are the secret that the attackers must take care of." He sat back, hands behind his head.  The long silence was broken by Avariel clearing her throat. "These things you know: is one of them the identity of he attackers?"  "Do you now know this yourself?"  "I would not ask if I did," she snapped.  Adi shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. she spoke slowly, her eyes slitted. "A moon ago, I was approached by a very secretive human. He said he was putting together a force of shifters and mages, but that he was keeping it quiet. He stressed that the reward would be immense, and that the danger would be minimal. I declined of course, for Tsippore decides where we go and why, but I was curious enough to trail him back to his den." She paused, cocking her head , then shook her head. "His den was a public place, so I was unable to follow him further."  "But I could," Karira chirped, her hands busily sketching something in the air before her. "I was able to catch a glimpse of him talking the man he worked for before their mages could find me. Here." She motioned, and the rune she had drawn flared to life, then was replaced by the image of two men bent together over a table. One was carefully hooded and nothing of his face was visible, but the other...  Avariel gasped, jumping to her feet. "The seneschal!"  Tsippore nodded. "Yes. He was the leak that allowed your attackers to gain entry to your fortress without a fight."  Karira shrugged impatiently. "Yeah. The other guy is way more interesting though." Avariel sat back down, feeling nauseous. She wasn't sure she agreed. The seneschal's betrayal cut more deeply than any knife. He had been her father in all but name, praising her and helping her when the Baron forgot about his only child, which was often.