Avati
Novice
Sweet Talker
Posts: 62
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Post by Avati on Dec 16, 2006 23:18:53 GMT -5
Hanging high in the heavens, the silver moon hung, and distantly, Avati recalled, her attempts years upon years ago, spurred by her mothers’ words, and the pain and anger, of a child struggling to be comfortable within her own skin.
“You are my daughter, my child, and it is plain for the world to see. I lie here, I listen to the pain life had wroth for you and feel the ache in my chest that I am the one, who has birthed you into this life, and cannot shield you from it, no matter how I try, and I dream of the day when I will finally see you touch the sky unmasked, and free. And allow the beauty you possess to shine to the heavens. You think too much like those pompous, blind fools, my poor, beautiful daughter, to think you are any less than you are, you are both Pomira and Zhoan, you cannot be neither or either, you, are simply both. You must find a way to live.” Nearly two hundred years ago, that was actually one of the final conversations the Deus had with her mother, early that morning, surrounded by family and friends Martiya passed from this life as a child small enough to still clamor into ones lap, be swept up, or thrown into the air wailed along her mothers’ beside.
The scene replayed itself over, three elder brothers, their mates, sisters, that had each accepted, and cared for the half breed sibling they helped raise with their own, even now, her nieces and nephews, some well into their prime, had children of their own, while Avati herself was barely through the door of womanhood.
She loved her family, her mother and brothers, their wives and children, but a part of her broke inside, every time, every passing year, growing child, and dug grave, among them, she aged so slowly, and they so quickly, that she would probably meet her great, great, great, great nieces and nephews before she reached matron hood.
And yet, another thought among thoughts, her father, and grandparents both would probably see her dead.
Avati flew through the night, the world beneath her had gone to bed long ago, nocturnal or not, and drowned in the silence of the night, locked in the solitude in her mind, from the memories of death and uncertainty. The nights’ silence was a song, and in it she found harmony, her life, her being made its own melody. It was a secret she never voiced, the harmony and belonging she felt in the night sky.
It was her Mothers’ words, the moonlight illuminated the whiteness of her wings till they seemed to softly glow, and cast light and shadow upon things rarely seen under the sun the same way. It bathed her in its gentle light, and cool embrace, gave her a different world, of serenity and tranquility that she would chase the sun down to find the nights’ embrace.
It was that melody, the one the night gave her that lay coiled within, and gave her strength, even as she knew what she flew towards. There was a part of her, no one would ever know, when darkness fell and she’s on her own, a part no one would ever see, a part no one would ever leave to be.
Dawns light crept along the horizon as the large house upon a cliffs edge came into view, windows on the second floor were wide almost as large as the walls they were framed, many for those to lazy to use the door. One familiar room had half its window open, the same symbolism of leaving a lit candle in the window. The womans heart rose as she descended and moved quickly into the house, and the welcoming darkness.
“Cuckoo…”
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Avati
Novice
Sweet Talker
Posts: 62
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Post by Avati on Dec 17, 2006 0:43:02 GMT -5
Avati turned toward the bed, and the voice that spoke. Across the floor she moved swiftly towards the bed and the figure that slowly sat himself upright with from it.
“Noir, rest.”
The old Pomira made no move to prove he heard her until he was settled and comfortable. Even in the rooms darkness, Avati could see the handsomeness and fragility that was her brother, his crimson and charcoal feathers were outnumbered by the white and grey that told of old age, or an up coming molt. Gently, the young woman took his strong, fragile, talon hand and held it between her two soft, all too Zhoan hands, and knelt beside the bed.
“You know, I’ve had time to write a book, about the way you act and look, little Cuckoo bird? And I have nothing. I tried to write a symphony, and lost the melody, and I suppose finish I never shall, music isn’t one with me, it runs from me. How many times, have you knelt on this floor, and shed your tears, dear sister? When mother joined the earth and the heavens, we spoke with Chem, of what we should do, we were grown and starting families of our own, and there was you, so young and alone, we were at a lost. You stayed here and we cared for you, you would go to Chem when he came, or sent word he was home, or flew on your own to his parents and the horses, and for a very long time, I believed everything worked. But when Remeron, and Avalou, past, not to mention Camillia, Lesline, and Eliza, did Telor and I fear for you once again, we were not born that far apart us four, you were but a child when mother left, and then, we wouldn’t even consider you a young lady, and a lady you are, despite, your tongue.”
The amusement in that grave voice brought pricks to Avatis’ eyes before the woman smiled and laid her face against the back of his hand, hiding away the tears that threatened. Gently he moved fingers through the woman’s hair as the pair sat in silence, each knew what the other needed, Noir, to be able to say how he felt, as the youngest of her older brothers, he had the most difficulty expressing how he felt, or what he thought without careful and long deliberation. And Avati, sadly, so much, as it felt as if it was the end of the world as the she knew it.
“Again, we conferred with Chem, and like you he has barely change, while you age slowly, he, slower still, and we could see the weight of it all upon you already. Should we have sent you away little one? Spare you these pains, let you be with the elves? We kept you here, because here, our family, while changing, was going, and within our wings we knew love for you flowed unbound. Away from any capital, with few visitors, here we knew you were safe, and yet I can’t help but wonder should you have been away until now and be spared. After tonight, go Avati, come back, for there will always be family here, and they know you. But go gentle heart. You’ve already taken the steps, already thought it through and started the process to pull away.”
“I-”
Fingers gently moved through her hair again as the elder Pomira shushed the woman. “It is alright, despite your wings your more at home among the elves and horses, the night sky, sea, and trees, you still should become a Dryad, I think it would help.”
Silence fell upon the room once more and Avati sat up, adjusting her legs, her hands not leaving those of her brother. Gently Noir pulled away and patted Avatis’ talon less hands gently. “The rest of the treasure is yours you realize.”
Avati gave a slow blink before turning her head and allowed the puzzlement show upon her face.
“Our family seems to truly have a gift, the treasure, money and items Mother and the others amassed. Mother left us each equal portions when she died our inheritance, Remeron and Avalou added to it, everything kept even. Yours was kept secret, and separate from the rest, Avalous’ idea, if we ever did go to ruin, or be found, your dowdy would be intact. That’s probably not what Mother intended, but we treated it as such, it stayed untouched, and is extremely difficult to get to, believe me, I settled for the house in Moonhaven and the furnishings you chose, compared to risking that journey.
But know, have you a need, you know you need not.”
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Avati
Novice
Sweet Talker
Posts: 62
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Post by Avati on Dec 17, 2006 1:57:06 GMT -5
Avati flew, hard and as fast as her wings could take her, she dipped and waved as her vision blurred, before a cry of frustration poured fourth, a cry, a sob. She cared not, who saw her, who heard her, or what they thought.
Another cry, and for precious seconds, Avatis’ outstretched wings didn’t move, and she glided forward, the ground racing nearer and tear blurred eyes closed.
Avati lay crumpled upon her side she hurt, burning scrapes, oozing cuts, but agony came from her back and a wing, which reduced the woman to whimpering cries. It was stupid, Mira was dead, she lay broken and bleeding, and it did nothing to bring back the dead, any of them.
Slowly, slowly, the Deus stood, and began her walk home. She was slender, but not of the same fragility of a true Pomira, she could walk a bit more, but more accustomed to flying, she still would be in pain if not collapsing before she made it home. One foot before the other, the woman made her slow procession, her hands held her, wounds and self, keeping herself together it seemed.
Such childishness, already Avati could hear the chiding voice of her grandfather. Had she no honor or dignity? There was no shame to pass from nature’s path having reached the end of the journey. With every death, rejoice and remember. Perhaps she would not seek solace in her grandparents company, she was finally considered of age, and had a home of her own. Home, was not the comfort it should have been. A bath… that did the trick, slowly easing away pain, and as the first hours past, the pain of folly as well.
A breeze blew as many did, but not many were accompanied by a soft snort, familiar to any self respecting Zhoan or equestrian. Avati looked, and the world slowed to a halt, she had no control of it, but the beast already seemed to pin the blame upon the young woman. The color of maple sweets and chocolate eyed the pair stood still for that moment as the breeze tugged at the Deus’ hair, whispered through her feathers, teased strands of mane, and rustled ebony feathers.
It passed and ears flattened.
“Well shit.”
She sighed and continued her trek; Avati eyed the Apertaine, and prayed it was bluffing.
“Go away.”
Topaz orbs lowered to the ground as Avati moved forward, ten yards separated woman and horse, and it was the path she had to walk. She kept her eyes away from the beasts, but watched it, she risked much, not to simply stay away until it left, but if she stopped, she would collapse and she knew it. Every aggressive motion the horse made, here heart trembled, there were no trees, she could barely walk it felt, and doubted she could run far enough, or fast enough, flying, was simply out of the question.
“You don’t want me, go, I don’t need you.”
Slowly, the woman kept moving, eyes downcast, shoulders rounded all she could think to be less threatening, she did not need this, and she would probably revel in the moment once she made it to safety.
“Untouchable memories Seem to keep haunting me Of Love so true That once turned all my grey skies blue But you disappeared Now my eyes are filled with tears I’m wishing you were here with me…” Avati sung softly, and let a wave of tranquility wash over her, voice gentle and soft, seemed to settle her nerve, she was so near, she could hear the horses breaths, and risked a glance.
Avati saw the scream before the noise reached her ears, already the horse was moving forward. She stood frozen for a moment, and something snapped, something broke in the small woman watched her death coming upon hooves.
“Bloody Cow!”
The Minstrel stepped back as the horse reared, her hand unclasped the strap of her mandolin allowing the instrument to fall, and distantly she heard the bird chirps beneath her own voice. Obscenities flew from the woman’s mouth, voice screaming nearly drowning out the horse. The pair moved, horse charging forward, Avati scrambling, stumbling to move from its path, animal rear, woman scream and curse. It continued until the woman fell, tripped over her own instrument, landing on her back, a wing trapped beneath her, fiery agony racing across her back. Bowed, she cut her scream and gritted her teeth, eyes opened to slits at the sounds of hoofs and a familiar snort.
“Fucking Nag.”
A small cry rang out as the horse, rose up and hooves crashed upon earth beside her head.
Frustrated, the woman growled, and glared up into chocolate eyes.
“Fine, smash my skull in already if you would. I’m getting tired… of all this… nag…” Darkness ate up the young womans’ vision as Avati lost consciousness, and chocolate orbs filled her sight.
~~~
The sun burned its path across the great sky, and began its descent to the land, casting all the light touched, in shades of reds, orange, and gold before a voice called from the darkness.
“That’s a girl, Avati, wake up. Wake up.”
“Papa?” Velvety lashes fluttered before snapping open. The hours slept away, healed away some pains, lessened others, sped the bruising process, and scabbed wounds. Avati looked at the sight before her, her father knelt, and had his hand outstretched to her, but he was too far away for it to be any good. Her grandparents, his parents, stood beside him, with expression of pride, and a bit of worry. Carefully she counted five Centaurs, she recognized two, knowing them since their birth, the other three however were strangers that watched and whispered among themselves. Cousins, some of the older children of her brothers were near, even waved.
Slowly Avatis gaze and head followed the narrow leg, to a large chest cast in shadow, and closed her eyes. The words that came from the dainty womans’ lips were hardly repeatable; causing a few masculine chuckles, and her grandmothers’ admonishments but slowly, the horse backed down, and lowered its head. Nickering softly, the velvety feel of the creatures’ mouth, as it nuzzled her hair and face stilled Avati, before slowly; hands rose and touched either side of the great animals head, and slowly pet, feeling the warm muscle beneath her fingers, the soft wind blown hair and soft feathers that reminded her of her own.
“Gods rot, what am I to do with you?”
‘Hungry.’
Avati laughed flinging an arm across her forehead before sighing.
Oh, the gods must have been amused this day.
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