A Luminous Dream Is There Waiting [AW]
Naudir screamed and bolted upright, her vision blurred as the blood pounded through her head and she could swear she heard the drums of the gods fade off into the air as she returned to consciousness. Panting she lay there for a moment barely aware that Branwen, the white crow, was fluttering at her feet. “Naudir?” Swallowing and shaking her head she replied. “I’m fine Branwen… just a weird dream.” She quickly exited her den and set about walking. The graceful crow flew alongside her like a ghost in the night. “Was it… a portent?” Naudir shrugged. She never really knew what to think of her dreams, at least not without talking to Runa. If their visions spoke of a similar message then she might consider it a portent but she wouldn’t know until the morning. One who saw visions in the day. One who saw visions in the night. They really were an odd pair and yet she felt that Runa had a greater connection to the gods and so she didn’t want to worry to much over her dreams but lately there had been some rather odd… coincidences.
“You should take it more seriously, Naudir. Visions are not something to trifle with.” Naudir jumped as the large black raven, Balthazaar landed near her. “Of course Zaar, I’m sorry. I just…. I need a moment to collect myself. I feel like I should be moving, I need to walk. Will you two accompany me?” The birds nodded and flew up to sit upon her shoulders. Naudir enjoyed walking, enjoyed the movement and it’s ability to bring her mind and body back together, to key in her focus. Though… tonight her mind still wandered.
The moon was full and bright and the girl was walking with her head down, until suddenly she froze, her hackles raised as it looked down into a collection of pine trees. It was as though she was standing on top of them and staring down and watching their trunks disappear into inky blackness. It was then she realized she was standing on a frozen lake of some kind. Where the hel had she just wandered to?
It was lovely in the north, and as spring arrived she wondered where she might travel next. Perhaps the mysterious southern continent would yield an interesting season for her. Perhaps she would head to the east, and enjoy the heat for a while. The world lay at her feet, and she had all the time in the world to decide, really. The snow crunched far too loudly beneath her paws, a layer of crust formed as the night cooled the melting snow from the day. Up ahead, it gave way to ice. That was troubling, if only in the sense that she didn't feel like risking embarrassment by accidentally slipping like an idiot. Out upon the ice was something that poured ice water into her veins. A spirit. Perched upon its shoulders, two birds of opposite hue. It had been some time since she'd laid eyes upon one of the fae, and old habits were brought up to the surface. This must be hallowed ground. She dropped her gaze, not daring to risk what may happen should she look the fae in the eyes. Unease flooded her, laying heavy like lead in her bones. Should she bow, rather than risk coming off as insolent? Her knees bent hesitantly, though she couldn't quite find it in herself to drop to the ground. Mithras would know what to do, the bastard. She thought begrudgingly. |
Naudir swallowed her stomach as she stared down into the inky black and for a second she felt like she was falling. Had the gods wanted to show her this? If so why? Her mind stretched back to the dream but everything was foggy and fading swiftly into shadow. She remembered blood… she remembered being surrounded by a ring of ravens and fiery lights across the sky. There had been something else there, some dark thing made of shadows and the organs of the dead. Naudir shuddered and shook the vision from her head. She wanted nothing to do with them.
Nails clicked along the ice and after a few deep breaths Naudir decided she was ready to return home. As she started to however she felt Branwen’s talons bite sharply into her shoulder. Stifling a yelp Naudir froze but then slowly turned to her right, trusting the unspoken command of her pale companion. She froze again but this time in shock. Ahead of her was a beautiful wolf that looked like she was wearing a pelt cut from the night sky and the rarer violet hues of the northern lights. Was this one of the gods? She continued to stare, wondering why the woman was not looking up to see her. Taking a deep breath she made her best guess and addressed the woman. “Nótt?”
ooc. horrible reply far too late to be appropriate. I'm sorry! The behemoth watched the wolf turn away, peering up through her lashes, careful not to raise her head. Relief began to tingle in her muscles. When the faerie was gone, it would mean that she could roam freely again. Perhaps vacating the area was a better idea for now. However, they stopped. The ravens were looking at her. Their beady eyes were glinting ominously under the faint light of the moon. She dared not risk meeting their gaze. Superstition bade her keep her eyes locked on her toes. This would be how she died. Mithras would be wrong in his predictions, and only that fact seemed to lighten the grim situation. Three pairs of eyes burned into her pelt, daring her to lift her gaze to meet them. The titan knew better than that. Her father had not raised a fool. An arrogant bastard, but no fool. A smooth set of feminine vocals rang out, begging a question the celestial woman did not understand “Nótt?" Now, the dame did dare to raise her eyes. Amethyst gaze would drift somewhere just beyond the shoulder of one of the ravens. Meeting their eyes would be dangerous, but looking away outright would spell an offence to the fae. "Za žal, jas ne gi razbiram, tvojata blagodat." She replied warily, gruff voice ringing out far too loudly in the heavy silence of the night. Who was Nótt? Was it even a name? Or was this a trick of some sort? Shit. |
Naudir felt her gut clench. She'd never been so close to one of the gods before and she was focused so intently on the woman she didn't even feel her companions claws biting harder into her shoulder. Would the goddess respond? She seemed awfully intent on something beneath her paws and Naudir would slowly turn her gaze down only to feel a swelling crush of vertigo that forced her to shut her eyes. This place seemed so… unnatural. Had she somehow crossed into the realm of the gods without realizing it?
At last the stranger would respond, not seeming to understand. Oh! Oh, so this goddess wasn't Nótt? Naudir tried to hide her confusion. She'd been so certain that with such a starry pelt the woman could only be the night goddess but if she was another than which one was it? She gazed past Naudir and the girl would peer behind her for a second before turning back to the woman, feeling her fur stand on end. Was something here? Some sort of spirit that only the star-pelted stranger could see?
When the woman spoke again it was not in a tongue that she even remotely recognized. She'd picked on snippets of many languages but this one was quite foreign to her. "I… I don't know what you're saying." She tried to remember back to her mother's lessons. Did the gods speak a discernible tongue? "Which of the nine realms do you hale from?" She glanced to Balthazaar, noticing the looking of keen intensity in his gaze. Did he understand the woman at all?
ooc. I'm fine with him understanding her, since she's horrible at English still lmao please enjoy my bad post D:
The fae spoke, deigning to use the common tongue with her. It was odd. Faeries and spirits didn't typically speak, to her knowledge. If they did, it was usually for the sake of trickery. Amethyst gaze narrowed suspiciously. "I… I don't know what you're saying." The three headed sprite announced cautiously. The titan tried her best not to snort derisively at the attempt to fool her. After a moment, the faerie continued. "Which of the nine realms do you hale from?" They questioned warily, looking to the raven on their shoulder. Its beady eyes pierced the dames soul with a keen gaze, making her skin prickle. Would it be entirely out of line to threaten a faerie? All this staring was beginning to make her uneasy. Clearing her throat, she decided to navigate English. One slip up in phrasing, and she may end up a slave to the fae forever. "This realm, I hail from, your grace." She replied, vocals low and rough in the serene night. A soft breeze brought the sharp tang of pine sap into her nostrils, searing a path to her lungs. "What is this, Nott?" Was her next question, spoken out of boldness. Her brother would be cursing her for being so reckless in questioning a spirit, but he wasn't here. He wasn't anywhere. Fuck him. He'd do the same thing anyways. She just wasn't allowed to. |
The spirit replied in a strange accent, her words barely decipherable but Naudir's sharp ears were able to pick out that the woman was indeed from this realm. Naudir blinked in surprise. She was of the mortal realm? Such a beast with such a pelt? Surely she had some connection to the gods but then the woman asked her what Nótt was. Her brow furrowed. She did not know the goddess of the night? This was such basic knowledge that she was quickly doubting this woman held any direct connection to the gods or spirits at all but if that was not the case then how on earth could the woman's pelt be explained? "Nótt is the goddess of the night sky… I saw the stars in your pelt and thought you might be she. Why… why is your coat like that? I have never seen such colors." Naudir felt Balthazaar squeeze her shoulder.
"The woman's accent… I recognize it. She is from lands far from here. Дама, дали ме разбираш?".
The faerie seemed confused. Doubt trickled into her own chest. Before she could do much else with this feeling, the spirit spoke again. "Nótt is the goddess of the night sky… I saw the stars in your pelt and thought you might be she. Why… why is your coat like that? I have never seen such colors." They questioned. Neither of the other heads had spoken yet. All they had done was stare openly, burning holes into her skin with their gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, "I am no deity, your grace-" One of the heads spoke. It had a strange voice, but nothing particularly otherworldly. The croaking vocals of a corvid. "Дама, дали ме разбираш?" It asked in her own tongue, startling her for a brief moment. Of course it knew her language. She directed her attention to the bird, finally daring to actually meet the eyes of the spirit. Whatever tricks were being played, she was wary of them. She chose to respond, hoping she could navigate the conversation better in her own language, where she was comfortable with speaking. "Се разбира дека не, твојата благодат. Тоа ќе биде прилично ебат луд ако не се разбере мојот мајчин јазик, не мислиш?" |
Naudir's ears twitched at the foreign tongue Balthazaar managed to speak and marveled at the magic of it. She knew her birds were wise, far more intelligent than anyone gave them credit for but she had no idea just how many languages Balthazaar had lurking in his jet black crown. The woman stated that she was not a deity but surely she was god-touched in some way to have such a coat. Blessed, perhaps? Or… maybe even cursed. Naudir's head tilted to the side at the strangely respectful way the other woman was speaking to her. She'd noticed it before but thought it simply a nervous tick that would go away as they spoke but that didn't seem to be the case. Grace? Her?
She would speak again in that strange tongue and she would look to Balthazaar questioningly as the crow let out a laugh. "Oh, I like her! Very spirited." Naudir shifted on her paws. "Can you ask her why she address me so? I'm of no particular station. Also, ask if she's lost or looking for something, maybe we can help, she's clearly from far away." The bird nodded, shifting his stance to rest more comfortably upon the she-wolf. зошто да зборуваме за нас како член на кралското семејство? ние сме понизни скитници. Дали сте во потрага за нешто?"