Private Tales Of Curses and Curiosities

[Ánië Táralóm]

In the most recent weeks as the dark host of their enemy stirred and moved against them, thoughts of those out abroad had become a diminished consideration. Still, now that the conflicts had moved further from Sharyrdaes, the war was in full swing. Aeraesar had been a dangerous land for far too long already, and it was now more so than ever before since the war. So when word reached her through the collective that Silvar had returned to Sharyrdaes, there was an ease that came with his return. In these days, every Aerai was as important as another, but Silvar had a habit of provoking a great deal more worry than most others. Ánië, too, often shared in this anxiety, but not as much as the others. He and her were not so different. He'd been brought up with great expectation weighed upon him, much like she had. But in many ways, they were far different.

He displayed a remarkable sense of curiosity - which among Aerai who were typically at least somewhat inquisitive, was no small claim. But, given who he was and furthermore who had been such a close guide to him, the pursuit of knowledge was not exactly an unexpected fascination. It was how he chose to pursue. His place as a councilor demanded his attention, yes, but it in no way was meant to impede on his autonomy. He was simply far more hands on in his endeavours than councilors of the past had made time for, and like so many other things it was something they simply had to get used to it seemed. He was quite adamant about how he wished to conduct himself after all, going so far as traveling off to search the ruins of Nórë Sérë. Next to Sharyrdaes it had been their grandest city, but it was no short journey there.

---

The grand archway into the temple was made open, its great gates swinging to either side. Within, there was an assembly of many councilors and scholars to greet him, and Silvar would find High Councilor Ánië there among them as well. Collectively they issued a formal greeting, raising a hand to their chests and bowing their heads, but too, many were interested to see and hear of what things Silvar had uncovered. Ánië however, though happy to see him, was clearly perturbed. She rarely protested against his decisions to venture from the safety of Sharyrdaes, but his most recent expedition had been a particular exception. The battle of Nórë Sérë had been by and large one of the, if not the most brutal and bloody conflicts of the first war, and it had marked the beginning of the war's end, such as it was.

And not a soul had been there since.

She cast him a half-hearted smile, waiting for him to have a moment to join her.

---

Silvar Echterion ​

 

[Silvar Echterion]

He hadn't intended to announce his return so loudly.

Of course, Silvar had expected interest, some scrutiny, even, from his fellow Aerai, and especially those within the Order or closely linked to it who liked to take interest in his work, but he had hoped to have at least a night to himself somewhere on the ruined outskirts of the city, just to compose himself.
But these last weeks had been grueling and lonely ones, far away from the bright glow of the collective mind of his people and full of visions of the past he would rather forget but couldn't, because it was his duty to remember; so when he finally came into close enough range to issue a greeting to the guards on the outskirts of Sharyrdaes, it had rang out too loud, less of a whisper and more of a child clinging to the edge of a boat after trying to stay afloat in dark waters for too long.

So he had to head towards the temple sooner than anticipated, less his hesitation be considered improper, or something along those lines. He didn't have much of a stomach for ceremony, which, in all fairness, was a habit he should have conquered after all these years as a councilor. And yet... and yet.

He made a brief stop only to make himself somewhat presentable (contrary to a popular opinion, no amount of intellectual grace allowed one to remain looking particularly scholarly after far too many nights sleeping out in the open), and make quick arrangements for the two Aerai who had accompanied him. Not to Nórë Sérë itself, but most of the way there and back. He wasn't quite so full of himself to travel alone in the lands that had long ceased to be safe, but Nórë Sérë was something he had to face alone.
There had hardly been a waking moment on his journey back not riddled by thoughts of whether or not it was the right decision. It was the smarter decision, certainly, but... Well. Time would tell.

---

He returned the greeting with all the appropriate grace, but it would have been hard to miss the exhaustion lingering at the edges of his form, the look in his eyes and the feeling of his mind where it melded into thousands of others that was at unrest, although his exact thoughts were shielded from other prying minds.
Silvar took in the gathering of those there to greet him, his eyes lingering shortly on the High Councilor. It was probably worth considering an honour. Or just something reasonable after the expedition he had just undergone. Either way, he was at least glad to see that it was Ánië and not some other member of the Conclave. Some of them were harder to stomach than the others.

He had to turn his attention to other members of his trade of lore-keeping first, just to keep them from tearing him apart in case he ignored them and their questions for too long, but his answers were bound to leave them disappointed. 'Too early to judge the discoveries'. 'Only a small part could be explored'. 'I'll have to seek the wisdom of the Shorai first'.
He was deflecting.

And in the end, what better method of deflection could there be than a member of the Conclave waiting on him?

"High Councilor," he repeated a slightly less formal version of the bow once finally approaching her, "I hadn't expected to see you so soon. I've heard mentions of a recent unrest?" his head was slightly turned in question. It was an innocent enough question, even a mandatory one considering his station, but a watchful eye and a careful ear could notice the traces of thickly veiled anxiety behind it.

---

Ánië Táralóm​

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

And partly, which he likely surmised, her being there was for just such a purpose as to deflect the bombardment of questions he was so quickly subjected to. But not wholly was she here for just a reprieve.

"Councilor," she responded in kind, her greeting too of a more casual display, "that is exactly why I am here... unrest would be putting it lightly," she said, turning and falling into step alongside him, moving away from the gathered crowd at the temple's gates. She cast a sideways look to him, her eyes stern with the words that came with them. I Morëliyúmë, she said, and the very utterance was enough to bring understanding for one such as he. Mere mention of the Dark Army meant only one thing: war. The very same war that had run cold over one hundred and twenty years ago.

"You may have noticed the outsiders in the lower city... perhaps not, as most of them are fighting on the southern front," she spoke as though he had a complete understanding of the situation, forgetting just how long it had been since he had departed for the broken city on the far side of Aeraesar. "Forgive me," she said with hesitancy, "much has taken place in your absence."

She explained that in his absence, the threat of the monster's host was perceived, and a call for aid sent out. To their great fortune, many had answered the call and rallied to Aeraesar's aid. Only a short while ago did the Dark Army march on Sharyrdaes itself, only to be narrowly intercepted by the allied forces.

"Things have been... tense," she admitted, betraying an uncertainty in her voice that was rare in her. Then she looked up to him, "I am pleased to see you have made it back safely. When the fighting began, I..."

---

Silvar Echterion ​

 

[Silvar Echterion]

His brows twitch slightly at her words, the momentary shift in expression giving Silvar a much more sombre look than he usually carries. So it is true. His exhale is slower than strictly necessary, in that measured way of someone trying to keep their calm with them. He has not been mistaken. Of course he hasn't. When has he been?
The name was enough to make his frown deepen, for his heart to grow cold with the grief and anger none of their people had yet conquered. "So it is true," he echoes his thoughts out loud.

"I didn't see any, but I could sense them, and I did wonder," he nods. Their minds had been lone stars surrounded by the vast constellation of the Aerai, easy to miss, but impossible to not notice after his attention had been caught by the first one. It had been so strange that for a moment he had almost been tempted to try to pry into one of these stars, to see why it was here.
Then again, a grand return that began by mind mingling with outsiders and thus breaking the laws of The Order would be quite... ill fashioned. Even for him.
"No need to apologize," he shakes his head, "I'll be quick to catch up," for the first time, his face is crossed by something that could almost be considered a smile.

He listens to her tale with great attention, not interrupting once as much as some questions burn his tongue. As much as he takes care not so say them out loud, he's sure they still echo in the shared mind space between them. How many have come? How many are fighting?

How many fallen?

"As am I," he nods once more, looking back at her. Her uncertainty is another strike to his already shaking composure, it's not something he could ever blame her for, of course not, but it is concerning to see even the High Councilor betraying her feelings like that. "We will need all the forces we can gather to shoulder this cursed time again," he looks at her and his eyes reflect the flames of the war that are as distant as they are ever present.
Something in his polite, official demeanour finally cracks, giving place to something a bit more sincere. "How have you really been, Ánië?" his voice drops lower, although there is hardly anyone there to overhear them. "When I was in Nórë Sérë, there was a moment where I thought that..." now it is his turn to let his words trail away. How can he even begin to explain everything he has seen, and most of all, everything he did not find that should have been there? Of his last day there, and the reason he turned back earlier than he could have, but later than he should?

There are some things too grand for words. Except maybe...

"Nórë Sérë made me fear for us all."

---

Ánië Táralóm ​

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

In those subtle, subconscious waves that intertwined between them more and more as they interacted, those quieter thoughts did brush against her mind... many have come, many are fighting... and it was far too soon to know what costs they were incurring, but there had been those who had fallen. But what was clear, was that despite the great number that their united army of light had mustered, even this seemed to be not enough. They'd saved Sharyrdaes, yes... but already they'd lost any momentum.

For now, she was comforted to see him return, but the mention of Nórë Sérë masked over this comfort with once again that unusual unease. Her eyes fell away and followed the floor for a few steps as he spoke of it, and she dwelt for a moment on his words.

"When I was in Nórë Sérë, there was a moment where I thought that...

... Nórë Sérë made me fear for us all."
​

They moved through the temple's great hall, heading down now through a tall, and wide corridor. They fell silent for a time as they walked, coming eventually to an archway and large doors. A subtle gesture with her hand and the doors slowly swung open, and they entered in. Through a smaller corridor then, they entered into a large, round chamber with idols of their gods and various other works of dedication to them arranged carefully. At its center was a large circular table with a hollow center, and a wide split for one to pass into the center through. At the far side of the chamber was another entrance, leading into another corridor leading elsewhere. The chamber was lit with torches, and large, smooth slabs on luminescent crystal stood up as pillars.

She sat at the table in no particular place, and gestured for him to join her there. It was unlike one to go anywhere other than first to the Shorai when arriving here, but Ánië thought it best for them to speak as soon as possible. It was not as though the Shorai would be going anywhere.

"You are the first Aerai to lay eyes on that place for over a century, Silvar..." she said to him, but her tone was hardly one of admonishment, rather, empathy, "you knew there were reasons for this."

Nórë Sérë was a mark in Aeraesarian history that was particularly dark. The city's fall was an utter decimation, a complete and total loss of life. None had returned to tell of what had happened there in full, and for many years after none had ever dared venture anywhere even near there. It became an almost hallowed place, and to some, even forbidden. But Ánië could not deny that she wondered...

"Tell me, Silvar..." she said, her voice nearly hushed, "what did you find?"

---

Silvar Echterion ​

 

[Silvar Echterion]

He followed her in silence, mulling over the things said already and ones not yet voiced, anticipating the questions that were soon to come. It was much harder to put his story together now in a cohesive way, it turned out, than when he had been rushing through the wilderness to get back to Sharyrdaes.
Though that was the nature of nightmares, he mused, to seem ridiculous in daylight.

In the end, he was glad to only have her company for this first retelling. Walking into the chamber at first, his eyes lingered for a moment at the hollow center of the table, imagining what this whole ordeal might have looked like with him stood there, the entire Conclave around him.
He felt relieved that everyone was far too busy for such formalities these days, as he sat next to her, shoulders sagging, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, fingers entwined, as if the simple act of sitting down had made him lose all force behind the proper stature he had been holding this entire time.

"I did," he flashed a short smile at her, that was clearly more self-deprecating than anything, "It is my duty to know things, generally. And I thought that caution had held us back long enough."

"We reached Nórë Sérë with no notable hindrances on our travel there," he began in a similar low tone, starting from as far away from the real issue as he could. "I left my companions half a day's journey away from the city itself. We didn't know what to expect from it and there was no need to endanger anyone but myself, besides, I was the only one properly prepared for venturing into such unknown. I had my wards up, in body and mind, I had researched my own childhood memories from visiting Nórë Sérë when it still stood, and borrowed from others who knew it once, till I had a perfect scheme of the city as it once was in my head. I thought it would be enough," he slowly shook his head, looking at the floor beneath him.

"I can't tell when exactly it all went wrong. I arrived to the city, or whatever is left of it, at midday. There were no signs of life, no minds I could sense, nothing. Maybe that should have been my first warning, but I was glad for my luck at the time. I was careful venturing deeper inside, I took my time, I looked for anything useful. That was the first time the place struck me as eerie," he looked back up at Ánië furrowing his brows, "Often times, we think of mental magic as something ocurring purely between living minds, but that is not always so. Thoughts leave marks on places where sentient people live, and thoughts of Aerai are special even in that regard. We could all leave Sharyrdaes today and it is likely I could come back a hundred years later and tell which houses were inhabited the longest, pry the names of the people who lived there from their walls, if I tried hard enough. I could definitely distinguish the influence of the Shorai. But there was... nothing, there in Nórë Sérë," he shook his head, turning his gaze downwards again.

"I got so caught up trying to peer deeper into it that I didn't notice the nightfall at first, and with it my thoughts seem to darken as well. I was tired, but I couldn't sleep, or maybe my dreams didn't differ much from the waking. I wandered around in the dark, waiting for the light to come again, but it never did, and the deeper I walked, the less I could tell where I had come from, or where I was going. I knew I had a purpose there, but it was all so... frantic. I am so used to clarity of my mind that I'm not even sure I can describe the state I was in," instead, he reached out to her with his thoughts, trying to share some impressions with her. Of the endless gloom, of the haze that had overcome him, of the anxious wandering with no end in the ruins of a citadel of his people, feeling more and more like a shadow himself with each passing moment.
"I can't tell how much time had passed, but finally I came across a ruined courtyard with a dark pool of water in it. I don't know why I was so mesmerized by it at the time, but I think I stood there for a long while, watching the stars reflect in the water, until the stars became trees and then trees turned into stone wall of a city," he looked into her eyes again, his voice nothing if not haunted, "I saw Sharyrdaes there, Ánië. And the dark host marching towards it, overwhelming it, tearing it to the ground. It felt so real as if I stood there myself, or better yet, as if those were my own hands bringing the houses down and slaughtering the people."

He fell silent for a long moment after that, before continuing again.

"I think I owe the terror that overcame me after that my life. I don't know how I found my way out, only that I came back to my senses already back in the camp my companions had set up, where they told me that they had felt me latch onto their minds but say nothing hours before, and that I had then showed up, incoherent. My physical wards were untouched, the mental ones nearly torn to shreds, almost not there any more, and I shudder to imagine what would have happened had they given in completely," and not because of the outcome being unknown, both of them had to realize that much. No, Silvar was sure, had he remained in Nórë Sérë even a day longer, it wouldn't be him who returned.
"They told me that I had been away for a little over a week, although it felt much longer. I didn't share much with them, only that we had to return as soon as possible."

"I must admit, a part of me feared that we would return to more ruins, instead of our home."

---

Ánië Táralóm ​

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

Ánië fell silent in the midst of Silvar's words. She was well learned in the ways of the mind, and the Shoraes' many gifts, but she'd be remiss to say she was as attuned as Silvar was.

Thoughts leave marks on places...
​

But what Silvar had to say about his experience shook her to her very core, and his imparted memories did little to abate this. She felt as he had felt in that city - restrained, both through his mental fortitude and hers - but complete all the same. She knew of how deep it went, though she was spared of its entirety. And she was thankful for it, for she felt as though if she had tread further then she might be overcome with the same feeling in her own first experience of it. It was hollow, and in it she felt fear.

Of all places to suffer such a fate... Nórë Sérë... already a dark memory for them, stricken now with yet another sorrow.

When he spoke of Sharyrdaes and the dark host upon it, her head fell some. "As if those were my own hands bringing the houses down and slaughtering the people..." he said. She thought then of what she had shared with Raëlta, and it seemed that in some way - which did not overly surprise her - Silvar had perceived it as well. Something amiss and broken. Something lost.

"It is good that you returned when you did, Silvar. It would seem to be in these times more than ever that we must be united and whole, lest these visions of Sharyrdaes come to pass," she lifted her eyes to him, "for you are not the only one who has seen such things... but why else would we see if not to change it?"

She offered a comforting smile, her usual disposition gently falling over her with a quiet breath.

"After hearing of your trials, Silvar, I apologize for keeping you from the Shorai... come, it has been some time since I have laid hands upon it as well."

---

Silvar Echterion ​