Private Tales Chasing Shadows

[Aethiriin]

His words were music to her pointed ears. Thiri's smile persisted in pleased enthusiasm, barely giving an inch as her host fluidly stepped from his repose and uttered incoherently to his shadows. It seemed like an unknown love language almost too intimate to eavesdrop on, but she was a creature of curiosity and so listened intently. Her rapt attention shifted to the dancing of the shadows next, following their progression around and about before taking a step tentatively as it snaked about herself.

Aethiriin lifted her arms, looking down as the darkness wrapped around her, layering over her own black ensemble in a fit as perfect as a gown from the modiste. Alarm was not precisely the right word, but she was most definitely intrigued. Shifting, moving, twirling about once, Thiri marveled at the feel of the fabric and how its dulled shimmer followed.

She had never worn shadow before, but she had often retreated into the darkness of the world around her to be alone. This cloak felt similar to that - welcoming, comfortable, like a hug - only this time it was mobile. Her little sanctuaries could only ever be in one place.

"Ha!" expelled from her lips in delight, "I love it!" and her feet moved swiftly to catch up with him, pleased to also be on her way at last to see her Godmother, "Is this your magic talent? I did not know black shucks had them like duannans do."

 

[Oryn]

Oryn watched her with a quiet amusement as she marveled at the shadows that now adorned her like a living garment. Her delight was infectious, a rare spark in the otherwise somber landscape of his existence. "They like you.." he rumbled, speaking of his shadows as though they had a mind of their own.

When she caught up to him, her feet barely making a sound against the shadowy ground, Oryn’s lips curled into a small smirk and he chuckled, a low, melodic sound that echoed softly in the darkness around them. “Magic is woven into the very essence of what we are, little ghost. They came to me when I needed them most. Are as much a part of me as the blood in my veins.” He paused, his golden eyes reflecting the soft glow of the shadows that clung to her. “It’s not just a talent. It’s… a bond, of sorts. A symbiosis between myself and the night. The shadows listen to me, as I listen to them.” he explained pensively.

He tilted his head slightly, observing her with a mix of curiosity and something deeper, almost like admiration. “The black shucks, we’re guardians by nature, protectors of the thresholds between life and death. Our magic is tied to that duty. The shadows help us travel between worlds, slip through the cracks unseen.."

Oryn reached out, brushing a stray lock of her hair back into place, his touch as light as the shadows that cloaked them both. “And now, they’re here for you too. Consider it a token of our alliance.”

He stepped back, the shadows swirling around his feet like a living mist. “Shall we? The night is long.” His voice was gentle, trailing off as he continued onward, murmuring distantly to himself.

"Where shadows weave and silence sings,
The night unveils her hidden wings..."

"In darkness deep, where secrets lie,
We walk unseen beneath the sky.."

 

[Aethiriin]

“The black shucks, we’re guardians by nature, protectors of the thresholds between life and death. Our magic is tied to that duty. The shadows help us travel between worlds, slip through the cracks unseen.."

These words slowly let the light out of her expression like a candle flame dying at the bottom of the wick in a pool of its own melted wax. Her mind silently went to her father. Did he have such powers? Had he also been a guardian and protector? Asemir and Veithir had only told her so much about him and both seemed ... hesitant to ever speak in too much detail. One day she hoped to meet the Erlking face to face and ask him for the honest story.

Baenon had, afterall, been the longest lived and longest serving black shuck in the Autumn Court - apparently outliving every age expectancy of his kind. And not just by a few years, but a millennia at least.

She smoothed her hands over the lengths of shadow wrapped about her arms, thinking it felt rather like velvet ... only slightly softer. Rabbit fur seemed a good likeness. Her gaze immediately lifted as he reached out, showing no sign of alarm of wariness toward the touch, but instead faint confusion.

"So I... can keep it... them?" did it work like that? Keeping shadows... it sounded quite strange, even for a fae. As strange as using the term alliance for whatever this exchange was. How was one meant to feel about having an ally? It felt rather more formal than simply saying acquaintance or friend. Like there was a war she wasn't aware of that having allies made all the difference in.

"Do black shucks not run in packs?" this next thought came to her rather suddenly, a recollection of the warning Asemir had given her about shucks, "You were by yourself. Are you not part of a pack?"

 

[Oryn]

Oryn's golden eyes gleamed as she asked if she could keep his shadows, his brow arched slightly, and a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I... suppose you can," he replied, his voice carrying a note of surprise. He had never given anyone his shadows before, and the thought of it intrigued him as much as it amused him. "Not freely, of course," he added, his smile turning devilish, "but we can add that to your growing pile of debts."

The lightheartedness of the moment was abruptly dimmed by her next question. "Do black shucks not run in packs?" The words, innocent as they were, struck a chord deep within him, one he had long kept buried. For a brief moment, a shadow of something darker than magic flickered in his eyes, and his expression grew distant.

"Generally, yes," he responded, his voice lower, touched with a note of melancholy. "But I prefer the company of my shadows." There was a pause, the silence between them heavy with unspoken truths. Shadows, after all, could not betray him. Shadows could not hurt him. They were loyal, silent, and ever-present, unlike the living, who had proven to be anything but.

"Remind me what the purpose of this trip is, exactly?" she asked, diverting the conversation.

 

[Aethiriin]

Growing pile of debts.

Thiri thought it odd to weigh a boon against a proclaimed token of alliance and her eyes narrowed at this, mouth preparing to blurt out that stream of consciousness but withheld as she noted the shift of his expression. Instead she waited and listened to his response. He'd said as much earlier, but it still didn't explain why...

Why did he prefer the shadows?

Was it because he was also an ill omen like herself?

"My fa-"

"Remind me what the purpose of this trip is, exactly?"

She blinked back the derailment of her words, having realized she'd been about to offer something toward the conversation that was so rarely ever verbalized. Thiri wasn't sure if she was mad or grateful for the interruption and her brow furrowed from the internal churn of feelings.

"To see... my Godmother," her gaze turned to look ahead, even if there was rather little to see beyond his shadow realm, "she's been very ill and in torpor since before I was born and I heard my Godfather speaking about her the other night. That she might finally be waking," a frown took her face as well, "but he won't take me to see her."

 

[Oryn]

Oryn's golden eyes shifted to Aethiriin, studying her as she spoke. He could feel the weight of her words, the frustration and sadness mingling in her voice. He remained quiet for a beat longer than necessary, sensing the unspoken tension.

"Your Godmother," he repeated, his tone quiet but curious. "Interesting" he commented with a quirk of a brow... "I wonder what sort of dreams she’s been weaving for so long.."

He let the shadows pulse around them, his gaze grew thoughtful, and the darkness seemed to close in just a fraction tighter around them. His voice softened slightly as he continued..

"Why do you assume he would not wish you to see her?" he asked, playing with the shadows on his fingertips..