Private Tales Ghosts of the Past

[Sylvian]

“You didn’t hear? Her family dragged her back through the streets.”
“I saw it too, with my own eyes! She was screaming, kicking and scratching like a wild cat!”
“How disgraceful!”
“I heard she’s been with a human, and she’s done it for almost twenty years! Twenty years! With a human!”

Whispers, a few audible gasps and the occasional laughter. Their voices were low, but the medical ward’s thin walls offered no privacy and Sylvian was forced to listen to every word they said about her. Awfully apathetic for a bunch of nurses, she thought and turned away; a grim expression tainted her otherwise lovely features and Sylvian’s hands were shaking.

“Elva told me that it was a woman!” The girls all simultaneously sucked in their breath.
“A woman? What a waste! She has to do her part for our people, does she not kn–,”
Another Avariel entered the ward and pointed outside. “A new patient just came in,” he gestured behind the curtain, where the beds were arranged. “It’s Caliane. Again.”

Their eyes darted to Sylvian and annoyed by their brainless judgement, the snow haired elf pushed back her chair with such force that it fell and caused some noise. Then, she clenched her fists and marched out of the room. Her tensed muscles loosened a bit when she caught sight of the redhead. Caliane was a freak of nature, a curiosity amongst their people. Some didn’t like that she was different, but Sylvian was grateful for anything – anyone – who wasn’t ordinary.

“Did you fly against a tree or something?” She took a seat by her cot and gave her a weak smile.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane was a brilliant hunter, a graceful flyer, and had a sunshine disposition that made her hard not to love. But she also had a tendency, along with her fellow cadet Zandeer, of getting into trouble. Often the trouble was something the two of them brought on upon themselves; daring one another to fly through dangerous storms or try and complete a dive that if calculated wrong could result in a broken neck.

Nothing so terrible as a broken neck had happened yet but she had broken her wings on multiple occasions, her arms, her legs, and once her pelvis which had really made her think twice about whether forfeiting a dare would really be such a bad idea. Their people's quick healing ability often meant she forgot such nonsense very quickly anyway - it was just too much fun.

The redhead Avariel gave a sheepish smile to the younger woman as she marched over. Despite Sylvian being a good century younger than her, there was something about healers that made them terrifying for anyone to disobey or displease.

"Or something..." Cali confessed, giving her her best impression of a small kitten.

Her left wing was a mangled mess.

"In my defence, this time it was in the line of duty. A troll caught me by the wing," she grimaced.

 

[Sylvian]

“Oh, Caliane.” The snow elf breathed a sigh. Her blood-dipped wings had always been uniquely beautiful and their owner equally reckless. A hunter by profession and nature, Caliane was a regular in the already much frequented medical department of Thyasari.

“You are taking us for granted,” the woman scolded and began examining the damaged wing with utmost care. It was mangled, bloody and in some parts the redhead had been plucked like a chicken by the troll – the sight of it made Sylvian cringe.

Caliane smiled apologetically, but Sylvian was having none of it. The Avariel placed her small hands against the injured limb and conjured her magic. Sylvian’s healing aura was cold, soothing and swift to numb the pain. White light poured from her palms into the wounded flesh and unimpressed by her own work, the woman turned her attention back to her fellow specimen.

“Was it the troll you were hunting, or something else? Do I even want to know?” The corner of her mouth turned upwards, hinting at a smile.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane bit back a tiny whimper as the cold seeped into her wing. Her natural affinity with fire meant the magic had a more adverse impact on her than many other Avariel; sometimes it was days before she could feel warm again after visiting the Healing House. It was necessarily a bad feeling - it didn't hurt at all, she had assured them of that many a time - it was more a sense of... wrongness. Cali was heat and fire and having the natural opposite enter her body made her feel fundamentally wrong.

Even if it was for her own good.

"Yeah... We were hunting them," she rubbed the nape of her neck with a scraped hand awkwardly. "They came a bit too close to the old entrance," the one which the Avariel had shut when they took themselves away from the human world. It wouldn't take a band of trolls much to break through and enter the ancient pathways. "We tried to turn them around but we think they were hunting for food. It's a harsh winter this year," and the Avariel kept careful watch over the herds who lived within their lands. Often that attracted hungrier monsters to their doors.

"We thought it was close enough to sunset still they wouldn't be awake but," she motioned to her wing to show had smart a decision that had been.

 

[Sylvian]

“Ticklish?” The elf teased. Her patient squirmed under Sylvian’s touch, but the healer only nudged her into position. Caliane and the snow elf were different, so much so that the rest of the ward enjoyed assigning them to one another knowing that Sylvian’s magic clashed with what slumbered inside the red-haired Avariel.

“A harsh winter, you say?” A bleak smile tugged on the corner of her mouth, slowly turning her lips upwards. Unlike Caliane, Sylvian revelled in the cold. Her heart was ice, a worthy match to her cold exterior. Sylvian took naps in the snow and felt comforted by the freezing temperatures. It’s always been her element–the one thing to set her apart from her parents.

One of Caliane’s feathers was dangling about, barely holding on. Without warning, Sylvian plucked it and ungently stuffed it back into place. “No one’s losing any more feathers,” she announced, disregarding the other woman’s discomfort. “Not on my watch.” She could be rough at times, but her work was always flawless.

Caliane would walk out the medical ward looking brand new, that was always a given.

“I appreciate all that you do for our people.” She gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and motioned her to lay down on her stomach. Sylvian pressed her hands into Caliane’s shoulder blades, just above the root of her wings, and repeated her magic spell.

“Are you..allowed to go just anywhere?” She hesitated for a moment, but asked anyway. Considering that she was a huntress, Sylvian assumed that Caliane had enjoyed a less strict upbringing than her snowy counterpart.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane gave the complaints most young Avariel's would as her wing was tended too. She wriggled and twisted her back in an attempt to get away from the pain and pulled a series of somewhat comical expressions. It was hard to concentrate on the woman's words when she was contemplating where exactly she wished she could shove the feather Sylvi had just rammed back into her like she were a pincushion. The flat pillow that lay on the medical bed was firmly shoved into her mouth when the white haired healer asked her final question about her line of work.

"Nfo," her words came out muffled. She paused and spat out her mouthful of pillow to answer again. "No, just within the Avariel territories. At least, we're meant to."

A soft sigh.

Caliane wanted to see more of the world. It seemed rather cruel to her a being with wings was not able to spread them.

 

[Sylvian]

Sylvian could only smile at Caliane’s attempts to find comfort in this situation. It was a hopeless cause and although it might have been inappropriate, the snow-haired female couldn’t help the mischievous grin on her lips; the sight of all her squirming and grimacing was just a tad bit too entertaining.

A welcoming distraction from the previous events of the day.

“Ah, that’s too bad.” Sylvian said with a sigh and shoved another feather up her flesh. A sting of pain, followed by the cooling sensation of ice would spread across Caliane’s back, although neither of those things was likely a pleasant sensation to the red-head. “I wanted to go too,” she began while continuing to work on her patient’s wounded wing. “Be a Watcher or a Hunter, that is. But my father didn’t allow it,” her voice had grown weary quickly and while Caliane’s face was still dipped into the pillow, Sylvian’s features now showed a hint of discontent and unhappiness.

“But I went anyway. You should do the same, if it’s what your heart truly desires,” the Avariel spoke and there was no longer a hint of mischief in her eyes. Instead, Sylvian meant every word she spoke. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Of course that was a stupid and reckless thing to say, but Sylvian was young and strong-willed – and unlike most, if not any of her kind, she had someone waiting for her down there.

Someone who didn’t have as much time as she did.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Another muffled string of curses came from the pillow as one of her primary feathers were pushed back into her swollen flesh. She could only guess at how many of them needed attention; the floor beneath where she had fallen had looked as though a fox had gotten a hold of a bird and shaken it all over the place. She couldn't imagine how people thought ice was a comforting thing. It was so hard to not let the fire magic slip from her vice like grip and heat her frozen limbs.

"I understand about the father thing," she said weakly after releasing the pillow from her teeth once more. "My father wanted me to join the Warriors, we didn't talk for quite some time after my choice. But laying here I am beginning to regret not following my mother into the Scholars..." she grimaced.

"Zandeer and I like to explore further afield. We've seen... interesting things but more people. We like to just watch them... they're so... so strange! The things they do, I don't understand."

 

[Sylvian]

“It’s an unfortunate injury,” the white haired said with a quaint smile. “But a fun one for me.” Even though Sylvian’s parents had urged the young Avariel to join the medical squad, the elf very much enjoyed her profession, despite it not being her first choice. There was something calming about being able to put others back together and with her detached nature and apathetic personality, Sylvian’s hands never shook and her work was always done with pristine precision.

Of course she did not revel in Caliane’s discomfort and pain, but she wasn’t affected by it either.

“You will be as good as new soon enough, Caliane.” She reassured the red-head and bleakly smiled. Then, Sylvian pulled back the ice magic and decided to use a different approach. Most patients enjoyed the cold on wounded skin, but Caliane was different than most.

It appeared that the red-haired was curious by nature – a trait the two women shared – and she was glad that Caliane used her partial freedom to see more of the world and the people that lived in it. It would do her good in the future, that much Sylvian was certain of.

“Zandeer – he’s your companion, right? Are you lovers?” Sylvian shamelessly asked her patient. Behind the curtains to their stall, rustling and footsteps could be heard.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane grumbled a few words that might have formed a sentence along the lines of "You don't have to enjoy it so much" though it was hard to tell with the pillow lodged firmly in her mouth. She gave quite a loud sigh of relief however when the ice magic vanished from her veins. Across her skin appeared little goosebumps as her body reacted violently to the cold. They ran from the very tips of her pointed ears right down to her toes, despite being wrapped up warm inside her soft leather boots.

"G-g-good," she said through chattering teeth. A moment later however the fire that lived just beneath her skin washed to the surface to banish the cold. There was a faint glow to her wings turning them from a dovey white to blinding radiance for a brief moment. It quickly evaporated with her next question.

"WHAT?!" The Hunter sat up in a startled panic, nearly tumbling off the bed in her hurry. When she whipped her head round her cheeks were almost as red as her hair. "Zandeer is most definitely not my lover! He's my best friend! Like a brother!" her nose scrunched up in disgust even thinking about it.

 

[Sylvian]

The red haired still squirmed, and the healer smiled viciously. “If you hate it so much,” she said to the other Avariel and plucked out a crooked feather. “Then just be more careful next time.” Of course it’s easier said than done, but with her crimson mane and feisty attitude, Sylvian couldn’t help but assume that Caliane was the reckless type.

The colour of her wings flared up, radiating in a bright, beautiful light. It lasted only a moment, but Sylvian enjoyed seeing it anyway. Avariel wings were always unique and seeing what made Caliane’s special was both curious and somehow satisfying. Her own wings always maintained the same, snowy white colour but were much larger than the average pair of wings; their colossal size was the reason for why Sylvian so rarely spread them.

The elf’s frame was almost petite in comparison, at least by the standard of her people.

“Oh, but you look so guilty.” A hint of surprise could be seen in Sylvian’s eyes, just before she burst into hearty laughter at Caliane’s reaction. She sat up abruptly and almost fell off the bed, but the healer swiftly grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her around so she could continue working on the girl’s wings. “But you are not related by blood,” the cheeky younger one continued. “I guess it’s because you never wasted much thought on it, but perhaps you should. I’m sure he would make a formidable companion.” She was teasing her now, but it was too entertaining to just stop.

“Besides, marrying your own kind isn’t as morally reprehensible as one might think. In fact, it’s quite common in many human tribes to keep the bloodline clean or something like that.”

Sylvian blew a strand of white hair out of her face and continued to patch Caliane back together.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

The young avariel muttered quietly under her breath about being careful herself not to get burnt, but even at the heights of her discomfort she would never let the flames that licked across her wings in odd bursts harm the healer. If anything they were oddly cool as they flowed across Sylvian's hand and played about her fingers like a small kitten would batter at a butterfly. She hugged the pillow close to her and was glad the woman could not see her burning cheeks. Zandeer as a mate? She scrunched her nose up. She had never thought about it before but perhaps that was due to the naivety of being young - she had centuries to think of finding someone whom she wanted to spend her life with. She had to concede that the healer was right and that he would make a good life partner but she just couldn't... quite see it.

Avariel were known to mate for life after all.

"He is just... not mine," she knew that without a shadow of a doubt. "My Mama always said you got a feeling deep in your gut when you know that they are the one," Cali chewed the inside of her cheek. Such thoughts had sent her down an interesting path and not one she entirely liked. Did Zandeer feel this way?

"What about you, anyone on the horizon?"

 

[Sylvian]

The flames licked her fingers and left a lingering, cool sensation along her skin. It was odd, but not quite unusual: the redhead simply controlled her magic well. Her words had caused a stir and although Caliane was playing it off well, the white haired elf smiled a jaded smile at the continuous squirming of her patient.

“I suppose that’s right. ” The elf continued, not wanting to burst her bubble. In a way, Caliane was right – Sylvian had felt sort of a gut feeling when meeting Cecile, although the avariel now firmly believed that it had been nothing but foreshadowing of what was to happen to them.

“But did you check everything? Perhaps there’s a part of Zandeer you haven’t seen yet, one that might change how you feel about him.” Of course the raunchy elf meant her words quite literally, but it was up to Caliane how she wanted to interpret them.

When she returned the question, Sylvian sighed wearily.

“Oh, I did – and it’s quite the story. So much so that half of Thyasari has been talking about it, but of course only when my parents aren’t around.”

There was bitterness in her voice, and also grief. The wounds of her loss were still fresh and although her strong will kept her from admitting defeat, Sylvian was not hiding who she was – she was true to herself, no matter what.

“I ran away a few decades ago to explore the continent below the skies and I came across someone special.” Throughout their entire conversation, Sylvian had continued her work on Caliane’s wounds. Her hands weren’t shaking just yet, but she was handling her patient a little bit more roughly now – not intentionally, of course.

“Unfortunately, she was a human woman and daddy did not like that. So now I’m stuck here again, and she is living off what few years she has left without me.” Her voice trembled ever so slightly and at the last part of her sentence, Sylvian clenched her fist and angrily shoved the feather too deeply into Caliane’s skin, causing it to bleed.

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry, Cal – I’m sorry.”

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

"I'm s-OW!"

This time she really did leap from the bed, sending a small side table toppling in her haste. She rubbed at the poor feather and spot on her wing in question whilst casting the medic a pouty look. It had never been in her nature to hold a grudge however and once the initial pain eased the accusatory expression faded into one of reluctant forgiveness. With a tentative nod she slowly sat back down on the table with her mangled wing spread out to the side.

"I shouldn't have asked about such a sensitive subject whilst you were fixing my feathers," Cali half heartedly joked though cast a glance over her shoulder with sympathy. "I might not understand much about love but fatherly disapproval I do. You're your own person Syl, you should do what makes you happy," and she truly did believe that.

 

[Sylvian]

When Caliane leaped from the table, the pale elf held her hands in front of her chest and smiled apologetically. “Right, but don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t fix again.” She patted down on the cot, signaling Caliane to take a seat again and once she did, Sylvian continued her work.

“You are not wrong and that is good advice,” she replied with a sigh. “I just wish it wouldn’t take for my family to abandon me for me to actually be happy.” With her back turned to the medic, Caliane wouldn’t be able to see the face she was making. It was a bit of a mix between bittersweet unhappiness and defeat.

The mood had shifted a little and Sylvian decided to brighten it up while she gently healed the small injury she had caused moments prior. Her patient was youthful and quite strong and although her own magic clashed with that of Caliane, once Sylvian changed her technique a little the female’s body appeared much more responsive towards the treatment.

“But you know what they say: practice what you preach. You should do what makes you happy too, and if that is by any chance Zandeer then–,” she didn’t think she needed to finish the sentence there and simply gave her sides a gentle and quick squeeze. Of course it was more of a tease than anything and Sylvian knew very well that no matter how well you got along with a person – if they weren’t your mate, then there was nothing to be done about that.

Even if you really wanted them to be.