#mountain shadow

[foliorumviridis]

[themountainsshadow]

Prompt #5 - Matter of Fact

The scratch of a quill on parchment cut the long, awkward silence between the Sea Wolf Roegadyn at his desk and the four individuals who stood before him. The Roegadyn himself was crisply dressed in a well-pressed shirt clasped within a jacket that was tailored to fit him in quite flattering fashion. The colours were dark  and solid, contrasting against the light, dusty green of his skin. Teal eyes peered up at the gathering of four from behind delicate-looking spectacles, a small smile framed within neatly groomed seafoam hair. 

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”

The foursome before him seemed an odd lot. An elderly Hyuran man and a young Elezen stood with the grace and poise expected of good Ishgardian upbringing, even though there was the slight tension of trepidation throughout their limbs. Next to them a pair of identical twin hyuran women stood, their beauty ringed with an almost reptoid readiness and wariness. None of them gave more than a nod of acknowledgement to urge the Sea Wolf on.

He took the encouragement with another little smile as he sat up in his chair. “Today I am pleased to report that our hard work has finally borne fruit. The four of you exist now without a trace of the archcrystal’s aether. The extraction was a simple affair, but the dissipation, not quite so. Instead, I sought to coalesce the aether into a crystal onto itself. That way, it would attune to a new bearer, and trouble you no longer.”

The Elezen seemed to have immediate concerns, reflected on the face of her Hyuran companion. “While that -is- good news, now we have to wonder if we’re not back to square one. Even if it exists as a crystal, it remains a problem for us, doesn’t it? It means we still aren’t free of it.”

The Sea Wolf didn’t have to answer for himself -- it was one of the twins who did it for him. “...he gave the crystal to someone,” She deduced quietly -- her dark eyes never left his teal ones. “He passed it on so that it would be someone else’s problem.”

“The authorities?” Piped up the Hyur. Though his tone was hopeful, his face showed that he had already guessed the answer. 

“As much as I would have liked to pass it on to the authorities -- that being the Arcanist’s guild in this case, since I’m not quite trusting of the Thaumaturge’s circle -- I did want the act of surrendering the crystal to result in some sort of benefit to us.”

The second twin laughed; it was a melodious yet somehow spiteful sound, a very non-verbal expression of derision. “Is your skin green because of the Roegadyn blood, or the snake’s blood, I wonder?”

“Come now,” The Sea Wolf sighed, “Let us not throw darts. You are all free. Naturally, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, voluntarily as ever, but the need has gone. The crystal and its aether are no longer a part of your lives.”

“But at what cost?” Demanded the Elezen. “Do you think the person who has it now deserves such a burden?”

The Sea Wolf’s smile moved seamlessly from warmth to a subtle sliver of potent, vindictive glee. It drew the attention of the twins, whose body language spoke of heightened wariness. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

[astraladvent]

Fraternal Bonds.

((This piece is best read with this music to accompany!))

The well-dressed Sea Wolf who walked along the metal flooring of the Habisphere had been known by many names. Skoengryne Bloeberksyn, his birth name. Bloeberg Platzensyn, the name he adopted to run a company in Thanalan. That name had then been simplified to ‘Mountain’ for those adventurers who feared to swallow their own tongues pronouncing the rain-tongue. When he bonded with Grave, he took the other Roegadyn’s translated name as his own and became known as ‘Mountain Shadow’ -- though ‘Mountain’ sufficed outside of situations that required a full name. Through all those names, peoples’ perceptions of him changed; formed, reformed, whether they were insightful or idiotic. Yet, his identity remained static. 

Mountain wasn’t quite clear on why these thoughts occupied his mind in the foul skies of Azys Lla; forever an accursed place in his mind and soul -- especially the top of the Habisphere, the battle-scared rooftop cast in the sickly yellow-green and orange glow that filtered through the noxious clouds. Dead leaves on small dead saplings fluttered, and dust swept across the metal floor. His eyes moved to one of the storage rooms nearby. The small space had served as a prison for longer than he cared to admit...but he was free now. Free, with only the consequence of trauma to keep him company...not that he would let that stop him from achieving his ends. 

What he was clear on, however, was the reason he had gone to the top of the Habisphere. It hadn’t been necessary for him to go all that way, but it seemed like the best place for what he was about to do. It was a reminder of the danger, a reminder of the responsibility and the burden he carried to make sure that his power was exercised safely and with restraint. With that in mind, he plucked his grimoire from the holder on his belt. 

Flipping through the pages showed a profile of the offensive spellwork he was capable of -- the supportive codex he had left at home. Myriad diseases and magical maladies, cursed fire, boils and sores...things like that. Mountain was a man of attrition on the battlefield, though he did keep a small catalogue of ruinous bolts just in case some punch was needed. Eventually he came to the section on summoning -- the most dangerous spellwork he possessed. Shadow, Dust, and Spirit. 

It took a moment for him to steel himself, but he settled on ‘Spirit’, and began casting with a hand over the pages. There was no need for lengthy incantations; the arcane geometry did all the work. All he had to do was provide the aether --his own aether, and the aether of the entity he had bathed in at the moment of its defeat. 

Its summoning was always a strange, macabre thing -- complex in a manner that he attributed to his own viewpoint...and trauma. It appeared first as a white coffin floating five fulms or so above the ground. It was pure aether, but appeared as marble in texture. Soft radiance floated off of it; beautiful and sad as it stood as a reminder of both triumph and loss. 

The coffin cracked with a loud report that echoed across the habisphere. A jagged line down the middle that -poured- dark red blood onto the floor. Mountain glanced at his gloved hands then -- they were stained in red. It was a moment that always made his stomach lurch. Fortunately for him, the blood only remained for a few ticks. As it evaporated, the cracked coffin’s halves opened and disintegrated into a fluttering cloud of white feathers that revealed what had been contained within. 

Too look upon it was quite similar to looking upon a carved marble bust of a large Roegadyn man. There was nothing below the wide, cloth-draped chest,  nothing beyond the broad shoulders. Its face was familiar, so painfully familiar...a face he wished so very dearly to see alive in flesh again, but knew he never would. Where there was once green skin, there was now an incomplete white, aetheric simulacrum of such. Hair that was once seafoam was rendered now as diamond and glass. Its face resembled him so closely. His own face had caught up to the aged lines the entity’s possessed, but forever would their eyes be set apart. Mountain’s eyes were a clear teal, and the entities a brilliant blue. Those eyes fixed upon their summoner, waiting. 

Mountain couldn’t help himself. “Hello, Wolfy.”

He knew that this...thing...was not his brother. He knew it was a remnant of the aether of what his brother had summoned onto himself, naught but an Egi. He knew that Rysswilf was dead, his aether returned to the lifestream to drift and be reborn again as new life. Perhaps it had happened already. Still, this was something. 

The entity stared.

Carefully he stepped close to it and lifted a hand to stroke its cheek. His wish for flesh and bone had manifested somewhat -- even though it was agglutinated aether, it still felt like a man’s face under his hand. The heart-seizing mixture of comfort and pain that simple touch brought him was both cruel and deserved. “Grave will be a little cross that I’ve summoned you without good reason. I’m a little cross with myself. This bond we share is a perversion of the natural order of things. A man should not bear his own flesh and blood -- even the image of him -- as an Egi. Still, through this blasphemy against the Gods I can offer my apologies...and ask that you lend me your power in the trials to come.”

The entity stared -- it was obedient without question; Mountain’s words were redundant. A measure of comfort. Still, they counted as orders, and with a glow of its eyes, it provided a demonstration to assure its summoner that its power was his. 

The fluttering leaves stilled. The dust being swept around suddenly held, clouds of stained cotton suspended in the air. Outside of an area of ten yalms or so, all went on as normal -- but inside, everything save a miniscule radius around Mountain and his Egi were locked in temporal hold. Slowly, Mountain smiled at the impassive white face of his brother -- no, of his Egi. 

“Thank you.”

[jancisstuff]

The Prism - Mountain’s Visit

April 2020

[jancisstuff]

Prism Arc: The Mountain

The typical night at the Advent was interrupted. There was that man I had heard so much about. Mountain, he was called. One many of the members looked at with conflicted feelings, but most of them were wary. Steeled to what fate might come.

It is an odd feeling of looking at the untrusted. Some wanted to attack. Others said it was death to. A fear. Some fact that this one person would end them all and had to be tolerated. Had to be listened to.

Like Guardian. Like a slave master would be.

His words were careful to a point, but there was always an assurance of being the correct one. An intelligence that bordered on madness. Privileged to lose respect or care. Malice

He asked for the Advent to quietly drop out of the pursuit. Claimed the allies we had fought and found were safe. What does safe mean to a slave master, though? I trust the words of these people, that this Mountain is smart. So the intention would be to cause us to act. But how?

April 24 2020

[we-funk-with-eye]

Tzel Ha'har (Mountain Shadow) @ TEDER FM Ep.14 08.10.18 (Susita soul X Tisser)

Listen to Tzel Ha'har (Mountain Shadow) @ TEDER FM Ep.14 08.10.18 (Susita soul X Tisser) by Ofer Tisser

[theframelines]

Sea of clouds(국사봉) by jilee1952

[miyopastronot]

En kötü tecrübeler bile kanının hala aktığının göstergesi. Hala yaşıyorsun ki başından bunlar geçiyor. Ben yazarım ve sevginin gücüne inanırım. İntihar bir seçenek değil bence.

Dağ Gölgesi, Gregory David Roberts.