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Neutral
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Mentions: Catori & Baiyen (Dir) Valae, Cyrus, Elariel (Ind) The pair had been an entangled mess cradled in each other's arms - tongues twisting to savor one another, breath being swirled and shared ensnaring the other, a satisfactory groan or whine here and there the only true language shared. Cornaith could remain here well into the next day however, their time together would be cut short. As the warmth of her touch quickly evaded his own and she’d begun to squirm beneath him the male would pull himself back and off of the female to allow her the hasty dismissal she was fighting for. A slight pang of guilt coursed through him, for surely the more seasoned warriors would begin to question the whereabouts of their stand-in chief at the dismissal of the apprentices. It had grown deathly quiet as the familiar vocals of Valae were the only sound to stain the air. His sharp pointed ears would twitch at the sound of a hiss and drag of Catori’s left leg. He hadn’t noticed the injury before, granted it did not seem as though Catori had any spare time to spar with anyone anymore, not that he cared. “I need to get back.” The male would reign any sign of guilt or concern from his mask, soon shifting it to its more familiar stern characteristics. “Understood. It was not my intention to keep you away.” He chided, clearing his throat, soon offering himself to aid her through the forest. Once again, her touch sent the male on a frenzy for more, but he would fight the urge to proceed any further keeping his mask unphased as he allowed her to place her weight against him. Upon nearing the clearing toward camp, he would guide her to the closest tree, giving her a look of understanding and respect for his decision to linger back a bit and allow her to go forward without him. Once she stumbled out of the treeline and into the clearing he’d walk back a ways and wait a decent amount before entering the clearing from an entirely different part, so as not to bring any sort of attention to himself that would give away Catori. He’d glance about watching the frenzy of parents and kin alike running towards their apprentices bidding them good grace, affections, and protection. Naith had his own half-sibling to bid farewell to and saw the curly-headed blonde meshed into a circle of sorts with two other males and another female. He would walk with strong strides and clap his hand upon his half-brother's shoulder. “Baiyen. You were loved by our father more than I ever could be so I know you will do just fine. Even with the little training I was able to gift you, I have faith you will do and be nothing but great. Stay strong brother, and never let your guard down.” He would proudly state, staring down at the male before him. He would offer to give his far younger brother a hug, however, with time evading the pair ever so hastily he wouldn’t blame the teen if he were to have run after Valae and the rest of the apprentices. For the moment that he stood alone his gaze would shift over toward Catori who’d been standing at the very center of camp, then towards Cyrus quickly dismissing himself from the madness that was the early unexpected departure of the apprentices only to be followed up by an Elariel who’d gifted Akith’ki with an item of sentiment and a hug only a true son of a loving father would know.
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Darkseeker
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Akith’ki Terosh | Apprentice | Mentions: Elariel, Aelion (Dir.) Sarolta, Kethryll’ia, (Indir.) His ears were pressed tightly against his head, smouldering in his annoyance when a familiar voice managed to make its way into his brain. Immediately, taut ears pricked up and he span around to look to where the voice had come from. His brows were no longer burrowed so low over his eyes they were causing a shadow, instead a glimmer of a smile rose to his lips as he saw Elariel making his way towards him. “Elariel, I was looking for you.” Akith’ki mused, his gaze meeting the experienced male’s, his smile still playing on his lips. It was only when Elariel had begun to speak his thoughts that Akith’ki felt a different kind of roiling in his heart, something stirred from affection rather than hate. It caved his chest, compressing his lungs. The press of Elariel’s finger to his chest almost relieved all of the pressure. A twitch of an expression wiggled its way onto the man’s face, trying his best to keep his smile in place rather than let the fear that was biting at his ankles to reveal itself. He refused to acknowledge the lingering fearful anticipation, useless emotion really. When Elariel raised his hands to his neck, Akith knew what he was reaching for and what he was about to be bestowed with. An overwhelming wave of joy washed over him, making his skin tingle a little. The sentimental value of the item alone meant too much to the warrior, he never imagined that he would be the one to receive it. Instead, expecting Althaea’s children to be the receiver, his true blood family. The swelling in his chest threatened to burst and cause the prickling at his eyes to overflow, but Akith’ki battered the emotion down quickly. “Thank y-” Akith’ki’s words were cut off by the hasty hug that he was pulled into, the movement taking the air from his lungs. It took him a moment to process the action before he raised his own arms to secure Elariel in the same manner. Making sure his grip on the necklace was so tight that his knuckles were turning white. “Thank you, Elariel.” His arms tightened their hold on the older man, squeezing ever so slightly. “I am honoured, I will protect it as it will protect me. You are an incredible man, thank you for teaching me everything.” Akith’ki allowed Elariel to pull back, the hands that lingered on his shoulders were a feeling that the young male was determined to burn into his memory. His voice, while it remained outwardly confident, there was the smallest of tremors towards the end of his sentence. He made an effort to hold a smile as Elariel stared at him for the last time in a while, Akith’ki knew what was running through his head. The worry, the fear, all for men who were not his sons but he had taken them in despite that. For Akith, he felt especially honoured as he was completely unrelated to the warrior. Aelion and Kethryll’a were his blood kin, Akith’ki was an extra he scooped up along the way. “I will make sure they all make it back. Fear not, Elariel.” AKith’ki dipped his head in a tough nod, his words were true. He would make sure everyone made it back alive, he wasn’t entirely sure if he could live with himself if he did not. He had seen how people had returned from the trials after losing people, he had heard younger warriors still talking about Catori and her tiny group that returned, the family’s were still in mourning all these years later. As he watched Elariel’s form dart away to find his next target, Akith’ki had a small realisation that Elariel had sought him out first. It brought a little bubble of pride to his chest, it straightened his spine and corrected his expression. Donning a guise of confidence, strength and certainty. His eyes carried down to the necklace in his hands, for the moment he admired the smoothed carving, running a thumb over the side of it with great care. Akith’ki raised it to his heart and held it there for a second before proceeding to lift it higher, hands moving behind his neck to secure it in place. His chin dipped to look at how it sat just below his collarbones, the flicker of pride still warm in his chest. When he finally raised his eyes, Akith’ki was met with the tall arm of Aelion calling him over. For a moment, he waived. Surely Sarolta would not be angered if he was only a few metres away, she didn’t truly mean stick literally together every second of the day? Right? His eyes glanced her way before he began to stride towards Aelion. “I’ll find you, if I can’t see you I’ll track you.” His voice was low as he made his quick get away. Akith’ki offered Aelion a wide grin, his head tilted slightly to the side as he greeted his found family. “I didn’t expect to leave without a shirt or my gear, but here we are.” He chided, eyes lightening with amusement. If he didn’t make fun of the situation, he feared he would whine and cry about it instead. “Are you ready?” His arm lifted to sling itself over the shorter male’s shoulders and roughly pulled him towards Akith’ki’s side. His head lowered to be closer to Aelion’s. In the beginning, Akith had not been particularly hands on with their friendship, finding the closeness and friendliness uncomfortable. However, now Aelion was one of the few people - if not the only - he felt comfortable enough with to make jokes, to casually horse around with. Sarolta was different, she was enigmatic and it drew him in, he was not comfortable around her, it was more an adoration or infatuation with her aura that ensnared him. “Or did the Elders announcement have you shaking in your boots?” Akith’ki smile turned into a teasing grin, nudging Aelion’s body with the shoulder that was already leaning into him.
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Neutral
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Syllivanna Zylqirelle Apprentice Mentions: Aelion, Catori, Apprentices (Dir) Elariel, The Elders (Ind) “Syllivanna, Esen, Glad to see you two made it through the crowd.” The low yet warm vocals of Aelion were always music to the young female’s ears. She’d supply a light-hearted laugh only to find herself soon slightly blushing, having caught the male’s gaze lingering upon her. She had selected a rather bold attire for herself but did greatly enjoy it nonetheless. A deathly silence had interrupted the warmth of the group before any more interactions could be supplied. Soon it would be the vocals of Valae commanding the apprentices to be dismissed. If her pupils had once been dilated beyond all reason they would now constrict, adrenaline would now course through her body as they were now being sent on their way to face the trials with little to no sleep. Apparently, change would be brought quickly within this group of apprentices, more hastily than anyone would like judging by the looks of everyone else. She’d grow eerily still pointed ears dropping back slightly. She would give her cousin a wary glance as if to share a similar sentiment of concern, her outward affect now becoming more neutral. "I suppose we should get moving before the crowd thins out too much. Give me a moment." Her gaze would soften and shift toward Aelion as he spoke. He always had a commanding air about him, one of which was well-balanced, as if to be more of a suggestion or proposition than a true order with little to no harshness behind it. Upon his dismissal to an approaching Elariel, her own attention would be pulled away at the sound of her name spilling from the mouth of none other than her mentor Catori. She had noticed the limp the stand-in-chief presented with and raised a slightly puzzled brow, though returned to her face of neutrality upon the speech that Catori supplied, listening attentively to every word the female had to say to her. “You will return to me stronger than ever. Do not let fear cloud your head or let confidence make you blind to danger. You show them what you can do.” Catori’s first statement was an order, commanding her to return. While there was no guarantee of such a thing, the best and only thing she could do is fight like all hell to return back to the clan. The first statement was also a promise that she would return stronger than when she left. She took the next set of words as advice to survive the trials - fear would render her useless and being too confident will result in her demise. It was Catori’s last set of words that caused a grin to etch itself upon her facial features. She would allow a small breeze to pass between them before dipping her skull. “Thank you Catori, for everything. I know I will return more knowledgeable and more experienced than I am now.” She’d retort proudly, as the motherly grasp gripped upon her shoulders was released would she soon slip away glancing over her shoulder a final time before slinking behind the Elders with feline grace. The once darkened sky would now begin to shift in colorations supplying the group with a breathtaking palette of creamy oranges, light purples, faint blues, and a vibrant yellow of the sun beginning to rise. As the group neared the very edge of the forest all that now lay before them was scorched earth barren at its very bones. The heat radiating from the flats came in waves contrasting and assaulting the humidity that was familiar to the group. It was a miserably dry heat burning against them, it would only take probably thirty minutes if that for dehydration to settle in. “We have reached the beginning of your trials - The Scalding Flats. Miles and miles of nothing. A desert of scorching heat, where the air itself seeks to burn you, and the ground shows no mercy.” Syllivanna was listening intently to the cold harsh tone of Valae. Had the scenery not given away what to expect The Elder did not hold back on providing that information. As Ula now stepped forward, pulling out what appeared to be a scroll from her robes, proceeding to hand it over once more to Valae. “Our gift, to you. Use it wisely. Navigate your terrain with caution but bravery.” Syllivanna would tense slightly as The Elder approached her cousin to give her their gift. Her face of neutrality faltered a bit having noticed a wink supplied by the Elder toward her kin. “This is no ordinary map - It’s glamoured. If you do not complete the trial and retrieve the artifact, your next mark will remain hidden. Only when your task is fulfilled will the map reveal your next destination—and the next artifact you must recover. By completing this..? Oh, you will obtain your true forms." The Elders tone had shifted from stern and commanding to a near hiss and would soon begin to grin. Her own tension would refuse to cease until Ula had approached to grant her a blessing. Her touch had provided a soothing and calm aura granting the same blessing to all the apprentices before returning to Valae’s side. “Know that we are all proud of you. We thank you for your sacrifices. May the Gods bless you and keep you safe.” These would be their departing words as the sisters now vanished into the treeline making their way back to the tribe. Her tension had finally seized, head now gaining clarity at what was at stake. She’d peer over toward the group of apprentices and then back toward the treeline. Most of the apprentices lacked heavy clothing which surely benefitted them in this initial test. However, taking water or something of the sort and ensuring anyone whose skin was exposed to the elements would have shade to avoid sunburn was the first thing on her mind. “Well, now that's out of the way. I think we should grab a couple of large leaves and place them in someone's satchel as a source of water. I also think those of us with exposed skin should lather up in a thick layer of mud to prevent sunburn.” She would suggest lightly. It would be too early in the trials to deny her suggestions inappropriate, they were valid concerns. It wasn’t her intention to take a commanding or leading role but she’d at least try to her best ability to grant a healer’s perspective on the potential hazards they were to face. She would return to the treeline to strip a leaf of a singular fiber to tie her curly hair up into a bun, a few strands remaining free from being tied back. She’d return, waiting for the group to deliberate and begin some form of planning.
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Neutral
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Zinniah Livius || Gatherer || F ||229||Mentions: Ravae (dir.) , Althaea, Elders, Cyrus, Averelle, Elariel (all ind.), Aelion & Akith'ki (dir.) Zinniah wasn't surprised in the slightest, contrary to poor Ravae - a confused "Shaman?" flickering from her lips; the huntress' assumption that her friend had not fully heard the announcement was - as Zinniah's assumptions often turned out to be - entirely true. And now, as the younger woman seemed to grapple for an understanding in her mind, Zinniah could only watch on with a slightly pitying look. The abrupt announcement would be difficult for anyone to handle, and she could only imagine the flurry of thoughts likely swirling around the gatherer's head... From hardly any serious responsibility to arguably the most important position in the clan. She'd do her best to offer Ravae some sage words of advice but with the panicked squeak that had come with her confusion, Zinniah could only bring herself to raise the slightest eyebrow in response. At the rest of her friend's stuttered words, Zinniah screwed her eyes closed in order to maintain her serene appearance. She was beginning to feel a bit more of frustration bubble up in her chest, sourcing from Ravae's unnecessarily loudness and high pitch though hardly caused by it. Her real irritation lay with her mother and aunt: could they not have pre-warned young Ravae? If not her sake, then at the very least for Zinniah's own sake?! This sudden update had trouble written all over it, which she knew she would not do well stomaching. But if her friend would require her support, she'd have to somehow manage around her discomfort. Either way, once the shock settles, Zinniah would be having a few words with her family. Althaea's side too: though she suspected her cousin was less than pleased at this announcement perhaps she would be generous enough to lend the young gatherer some guidance before she becomes occupied by her upcoming little ones. It would be worth an ask, if Ravae later appeared to need more support. Perhaps she needed less than Zinniah thought. The gatherer opened her eyes to Ravae halfway across the emptying clearing, muttering something about tending to someone before she wandered past. It took her about half a second to figure out who the new Shaman was refering to, and another to put down her drink and swivel to watch her approach possibly the worst person she could in that moment. Ravae seemed to making her way over to the still possibly seething Cyrus, probably hoping to tend to him in some way. Zinniah held her breath slightly, honestly expecting the warrior to blow up right then and there, taking out the young woman with him. But whatever Averelle had done or said seemed to have had a lasting effect, and from what Zinniah could see he had returned to all bark no bite. The blonde woman had tried to catch Zinniah's eyes earlier, probably trying to catch some rare distribution of advice but now the huntress could only shrug as she caught the younger woman's eyes again. Though she'd watch from afar - ice eyes locked on the warrior's back in case he managed to loose his temper once again tonight - she did not want to get anywhere near the man and the fury he carried about himself: especially blisteringly fiery tonight, given the evening's events. Zinniah would leave the young woman to it, only willing to intervene if ultimately necessary. Fortunately it would seem she would have no need to. With Elariel weaving expertly through the crowd, the only thing Zinniah felt necessary to do was shoot Cyrus another icy glare at the back of his skull with narrowed eyes. Her attention could now lie elsewhere, at least for a moment. The warrior could manage any warrior issues (hopefully he could divert Cyrus's anger away from Ravae), and probably offer advice for the new Shaman better than anything she's conjure up; while Zinniah held a distate for violence she was no pacifist and much better at causing injuries than trying to heal them, plus the two gatherer's herb knowledge likely lay in the same level. Anyway, what was really needed tonight was to finally get the apprentices on their way and then everyone else to bed: any lingering issues could be investigated tomorrow. In a way only her aunt could succeed in, Valae's voice cut through those still lingering in larger groups, silencing all. Zinniah tightened her grip on her bow as an uncomfortable shiver made its way down her spine: family or not, Val could still put her unease especially with words as blunt and commanding as these. The apprentices were to leave now, and there would be no waiting around. Zinniah would have to reconvene with Ravae later, but in any case it had seemed both Cyrus and Elariel's attention had been firmly diverted to their respective young. That left her free to go and track down her own young kin: Aelion. Her nephew's taller figure wasn't difficult to spot despite the chaos that had ensued post elder announcement: it was very much like them to keep everyone on their toes, the evening going by in one blurred sweep of their cloths. The boy seemed to have melted into Elariel's firm arms, and Zinniah didn't have the heart to interrupt, a smile etching it's way onto the corners of her lips. She would never be able to openly say how thankful she was Elariel and Althaea had stepped up to provide her nephew with the parental guidance she had never been able to offer. Words wouldn't do their kindness justice anyway. As Elariel parted with Aelion, another apprentice - Cyrus' son, Akith'ki - rejoined his side and the two seemed to relax a little. Zinniah would need to take this opportunity to interrupt if she wanted to say anything to her nephew before the Elders whisked him away to the trials. And though she did not doubt he would be one to safely navigate them, Zinniah would need a way to ensure it one way or another. Her narrow figure stalked her way to greet Aelion, quick as to not waste a further moment of time. "Aelion, we did not speak much tonight. Forgive me, I must interrupt." Though the words were blunt, her tone took on a softer quality, and even her blue eyes seemed to defrost a little. "I have been debating this for a while-" She gently took one of Aelion's hands and pressed her own hunting bow into his palm, carefully matching his gaze with hers. "I am entrusting you with this; you must bring this and yourself back to me safely... You are no fool Aelion, you know that these trials have their dangers. I don't doubt your abilities to pass them, but you must remain cautious: things are evidently different this time." She bent her head to unsling the small quiver often accompaning her bow, putting it beside Aelion's feet. Next she stuffed her hand briefly into a deep pocket, pausing at she closed her hand around what she had been looking for. "Aelion, you must remember that this is everyone's trials to pass. While a team effort, it is not your sole responsibility to protect others. A good team must be able to work both together and splintered, independent as as one." She took his other hand and lightly squeezed it. "I know you well, so hear me when I tell you that you cannot save a single soul if you are dead or gravely wounded." With such straightforward advice, Zinniah would not be surprised if her words fell upon deaf ears. Though she fully believed in her nephew's bright mind, he was still so young and being confronted with one's flaws is difficult enough for grown warriors to face, never mind a smaller one. She glanced at the other apprentice, tilting her head slightly as if to get a better judgement of him. "These are your trials, it is up to what you make of them. Prove yourself to whoever your wish." Edited at October 1, 2024 09:34 PM by Moose
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Neutral
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Alvaerelle Wynzorwyn Queen Mentions: Ivan, Esen, & Sarolta (Dir) Catori, Syllivanna, Elariel, Aelion, Cornaith, Cyrus (Ind)
“I’ve never been good at expressing feelings when it comes to any kind of relationship. Everyone complains that they can’t read me, but I can’t even read myself half the time.” “I beg to differ. I think your heart is just wary who it chooses to open up to. Seeing you with Samblar it was obvious you viewed and loved him as a brother. Surely, several others presumed if I were not to have ended up with Samblar than it likely would have been you considering how close we are as well, though admittedly I suppose our duties have drifted us apart some.” She’d state a bit saddened, but shifted slightly to meet his own gaze upon her, now swirling circles upon her swollen belly with a feathering touch. Upon her recognition of his absence in her life as of late she’d noted the eagerness in his vocals as he’d soon sit up beside her with an outstretched hand. She would allow her gaze to slip to his hand then to his face, a warm smile spilling upon her face now. She would scoot herself a bit closer embracing the warmth radiating between them and bring her own hand to set itself atop of his, her fingers gently curling between his guiding him toward the small flutter that had been, not too long ago. She’d peer down, her hair falling the slightest bit over her shoulder as she now released her grasp from his only to return to swirling her dainty finger just above his hand. No sooner did a shift arise to meet his hand, it would appear to be a very dramatic shift having altered the shape of her protuberant abdomen. She’d grin, leaning her skull upon the males shoulder as he continued to probe the lone triplet writhe beneath his touch. She’d close her eyes temporarily to allow the peace and tranquility of the moment to take its effect. His scent danced within her nares intermingling with that of her own, once more. It was only up until now that she realized the best of the drums had ceased. Usually, they’d go on well into the sunrise, by then most if not all apprentices had managed to slink off and gather some form of rest, whatever form they could muster. Therefore it had been odd for the music to simply stop. Her lilac pools would gently wink open, her head lifting off Ivan’s shoulder once more. She would turn her skull to meet his face, bringing her hand up to the side of his face once more. Her gaze would slip from his pale blue-grey eyes and meet that of his lips. She pondered long and hard whether to grace him with the smallest taste of her. After the night she had how much worse could it possibly get if she were to grace him with something he likely longed for quite some time now. To hell with the consequences. Cyrus was likely more than dead to her anyhow and would have to work beyond his own means to fall within her good graces - let alone truly prove to her she was more than a mere plaything. Making her final decision she would lean over and kiss his cheek, her paint leaving the faintest red line. “Thank you Ivan, for this,” she would state in a near purr, “I do think we should probably be heading back.” She’d add, soon allowing him to raise himself up, herself soon following afterward with his arms wrapping themselves around her frame to assist her in getting up. Her flesh wound had apparently dried over. She’d nearly forgotten it, were it not for the slightest sting radiating from the site. It was hot, raised and reddened, agitated by the salty sea air that met her skin. She’d clean it upon their return. As the pair made their way back to camp entering the clearing she’d find Catori bidding farewell to Syllivanna, Elariel sauntering over towards Aelion with haste, Cornaith bidding a final farewell to a presumed family member, and Cyrus stalking off. At the sight of the male her ears would burn, her own gaze giving away her displeasure with the male. Everyone was bidding farewell to the apprentices, so the music had stopped because they were leaving early. Alvaerelle, remained neutral on the subject of The Elders though would strongly disapprove of this early departure. A fierce mask would now emit from her as she hoped to find her Esen prior to her final departure. She spotted the teen not too far away from The Elders. “I greatly enjoyed your company tonight, Ivan. I do hope we are able to do such, more often and very soon.” She’d chide toward him, allowing her facial features to soften before returning to meet that of her niece. She would hastily waddle over shouting after the navy blue haired lass. “Esen!” She would nearly bark toward the girl, soon clasping her hands upon her shoulders. “I would never abandon you in a moment such as this. You are my brave, strong, and smart girl. You will return home an even stronger and smarter girl than you already are. I am proud of the woman you have grown to become and I know your parents will guide you through these trials. Djarinn and Alkyre would be so proud of you.” She’d finish, allowing the skinniest sliver of silver to line her eyes, before giving her niece a soft kiss upon her head and a motherly hug, smiling after the teen as she’d now follow after The Elders. Her gaze had slipped, losing her fiery haired miniature for a brief moment before finding her near the treeline of the canopy, Akith'ki abandoning her side to speak to Elariel. She would now approach the female smiling warmly observing the fire that burned brightly beneath the surface of the teen. "Sarolta, my dear niece. Your parents would be so proud of the woman you have become. You have your fathers firey temper and hair as well as your mothers beauty. I know their spirits will guide you through these trials - Be brave, Be strong, and keep your cousins and yourself safe." She would state proudly, her motherly smile refusing to falter as she would grasp the teen in a short embrace. She would return to face the emerald eyes of the grown woman before her once more. "Both Koa and myself have prepared you to the best of our abilities for these trials, and I am more than confident you will return more powerful and strong than you are now." She'd finish, relequishing the teen from her grasp, waving her off to chase after The Elders. With a small sigh and the growing darkness spilling before her she would turn toward the clearing where pottery was crafted to cleanse her wound. It had grown empty and quiet, a new location of peace and tranquility as she’d begin plunging a piece of pottery into a basin of water, rinsing and delicately rubbing her wound to rid it of any sand and salt from the sea. Edited at October 2, 2024 11:54 AM by Sanania
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Lightbringer
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Merrick Finely || Male || 17 || M: Aelion, Baiyen, Syllivanna (Mostly Ind), Esen (Mostly Ind), Valae (Ind), Ula (Ind), Ivan (Ind), Ravae (Ind), Ula (Ind), Cyrus (Ind), Avaerelle (Ind) Merrick huffs at the teen’s response, his face gaining a smug and telling expression. “‘Something’,” the brown haired lab’s brow raises as he leans into the taller boy slightly, “Why Aelion, this is to be one of the most important nights of our lives. A once in a life-time experience! I feel like it’s a bit more than something, don’t you think?” Removing his arm from around his shoulder, the shorter apprentice leans back to a “normal” positioning – fiery orange eyes angling up to meet Aelion’s own. “Though, that wouldn’t have to do with a certain dance, hm?” A cheesy expression spreads across his face as he elbows him playfully. Though a bit more “dense” than others of the tribe, he could still make out that string of tension between the scarred apprentice and his dance partner. The reason behind this tension, however, was what he was completely oblivious to. Aelion’s own questions followed suit – the boy turning more towards Baiyen a moment to better address the both of them as well as properly greet the eldest apprentice present. The questions themselves were a simple reciprocation of his own, inquiring on the well being of both him and the sandy haired fellow beside him. In response, the youngest of the three merely shrugs his shoulders with a slightly lowered grin and goes to speak. The dying of the event’s grand symphony halted his reply before a full syllable could exit his mouth – what had begun to rise shutting down with a slightly strangled sound. His vivid orbs cast themselves towards the only individuals capable of causing this sort of disruption in an instant, his grin dropping to a more neutral and slightly upturned line. There, much to his expectations, stood Valae – her arm still in a “silence” signal at that time. Alongside stood her sister Ula who did not look particularly pleased with the motion, despite her inability to truly hear the music. As the silence settles the blind elder calls to the crowd, her words slow and methodical as she reals in the attention of those within the crowd. Initially, Merrick plays close attention to her words – attentive and excited for what was to come. However, such emotions quickly faded into boredom as she recited a message received from “the dragons themselves.” He rolls his eyes at the whole thing, disbelieving of what she entailed. With a huff he crosses his arms with a small frown-almost-scowl, going lean his back against whatever may be behind him only to find empty air. A habit of his, one he had gotten all too familiar with. He corrects himself swiftly before he could truly stumble, glancing towards his companions slightly before pretending that nothing had happened – taking up the half-a-scowl and crossed arms once again. “Prophecy, smophecy. Let’s get one with it,” his held a hushed tone, just harsh enough to be heard by those near him. Anything would be better than listening to these bland remarks. Mild attention was granted throughout the duration of the following remarks, only heightening at the mention of a specific clan mate’s name. It seemed that the trials were not the only thing on the minds of the elders tonight. Ivan was the first to be called by Valae, his promotion to lieutenant causing some stirring reaction from the crowd. It was clear that a good few were questioning this position, their reasons a multitude of possible “routes.” Shock, uncertainty, jealousy? All emotions one could be feeling at this very moment. Finely on the other hand? Well, he could care less. It was a logical choice, no matter his age, and one he could understand perfectly. The tall man was set to become the chief one day. What better way to train than to gain direct experience from a higher position? No amount of simple learning could chalk up to that in his mind. The secondary announcement, however, was of particular interest. Bowing his head slightly he mutters under his breath, “Ravae? That blonde-haired gatherer that always seems to have her head anywhere but here? She’s Shaman?” Yes, it was a shock to the young fellow as it was to many in the crowd. Ravae was young. Not terribly so but much younger than what one would believe one in that position to be. Couple that with her frighteningly swift shift from “land of the living” to “off in her own world” and it appeared to be a recipe for disaster. It seemed that others agreed to that sentiment, expressing their uncertainty of grief with the choice to those around them or quite vocally as a whole… He truly wished he hadn’t caught the mutters and flutters of words and growls from Cyrus and Avaerelle, the wafting scent of blood telling him all he needed to know of the interaction as a whole. It was of little surprise that the grieving male would be upset by the announcement of a new shaman – his mate having been the previous – but he had never expected it to go that far. Though, truthfully, he didn’t have the full context of the situation, only the smaller but still key details. It seemed to be a well earned crack to the night’s cheerful atmosphere, if the announcement itself hadn’t already been one. A greeting catches his ear, presenting him with a much needed distraction from the conflict nearby. Good, he shouldn’t be letting something that didn’t even involve him ruin this moment. Lifting his head to its normal positioning, he spies two of the other apprentices approaching the group – Syllivanna and Esen. He knew little of the two, though that was not of any particular surprise, so it was a bit surprising to find himself being addressed. A common courtesy, perhaps? No matter, it wasn’t like he was going to pass on at least some social interactions from others. He greets them with his own smirk-lined nod, letting Aelion do the more proper greeting. Little time was given for any further interaction, however, as Valae spoke once more. Her call was for the apprentices this time, announcing their subsequent departure from the ceremony and into the trails. Excitement courses through his veins once again, his mouth lifting its classical challenging smirk – its edges sharper than usual from the buzz of exhilaration he now faced. Bumping the back of his hand against Baiyen’s shoulder, he motions for him to follow as he moves towards the pair of elders as they prepare a torch. It was finally time for the trials to begin.
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Lightbringer
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Clisteœska Dryadalis Avallac’h Warrior | Female | Mentions : Cornaith & Catori ( ind . ) Apprentices (ind.) The young woman expected a reaction out of the male - and she wasn't wrong at all. He had come to her and offered her some water, and a flower , she gave a rather dismissive hum as he did so. While she wasn't one to necessarily pursue someone who was so, how to say, as tricky as her - it felt different with him. And she never would admit it, but she quite enjoyed their little game - yet, as of late it was growing quite irksome. And she was growing more and more envious of the woman that got his attention, and there was something more possessive was surfacing - and she was refusing to acknowledge it. And she couldn't really blame him , after all she never really said anything about them being exclusive . Taking her mind off her thoughts, she took note of the clan mingling together and smiled. Today was a good day, one that was full of hope and cheer. The young woman gave a soft chuckle, as she drank her water , and she took the flower that she had been gifted and sniffed it - the scent tickling her nose and she gave a softer smile, and she decided to tuck it behind her ear and wear it. She was feeling better now that she had some water in her system. And she stood up from her spot, preparing to go ask Cornaith to dance . That's when she saw him and Catori together, and she swore she felt her blood run cold. And whatever good mood she was in, it was rapidly turning into something quite sour. She shouldn't feel threatened by the female but she was - she was of higher status than her, and she felt her nose wrinkle in irritation, and she began rubbing small circles atop her hand. And that's when the two got closer together, the woman practically in his lap, and she felt her cheeks burning - if not from embarrassment then from anger. Because she felt so foolish, so foolish to be upset over something that was so simple - and yet, she didn't want to admit it but a piece of her died as the two went off. And then Koa of all people seemed to have saw it too. She needed another drink - maybe being drunk would help her forget what was going on. And she moved to get herself a drink, and that's when the interaction between Cyrus and Alvarelle happened, and maybe it was the liquor but something awoken in the way the woman spoke to him. She knew her worth, and she wasn't graveling over some man - instead he was graveling and begging her for forgiveness. And that led her to begin to question her relationship with Cornaith, she liked him she was positive that he liked her back as well - yet, she knew of his commitment issues. But this still felt a bit much for her, and she didn't like how it made her felt anymore - it wasn't making her happy or making her look good. She didn't want to admit that Cornaith had her heart on a silver platter, and it felt like he was constantly stabbing at it with his other women. Hell, she didn't mind the pretty women - some of them she admired herself, and she didn't mind it but she was feeling less and less important as a person to him and just a game to him. And it infuriated her that he knew how to push her buttons - she didn't care for the prophecy, but her mood soured even more when Catori was placed as the Stand-In-Chief, and her brain tuned out the rest of it . She continued to drink the amber colored mead, her anger brewing and hurt festering . She felt a scowl appear as Catori reappeared, and she shamelessly had Cornaith's body paint on her, and her hair was unruly. The implications were heavy, and didn't leave much for the imagination, and she felt a slight hiss bubbling in her throat and her eyes burning angrily at the sight. She had to keep her composure, she wasn't some little girl getting upset that her crush was talking to another. That was foolish and not her, but it was embarrassing - it wasn't that much a secret that she and Cornaith had something , and that it was complicated . So this was even more sullying her own reputation. Because what self respecting woman like her would tolerate such behavior from such a man ? No one she knew, her mother certainly would be disappointed and say that she should have him feeling the way she was right now. And her mother would call her pathetic for pining over a man who didn't seem to care for her feelings. And her father would tell her that no man was worth the aggravation, and that if he broke her heart that she should shatter his into a thousand pieces, and if he didn't come back on his knees begging for mercy then he wasn't worth her breath. Yes, she wasn't someone whose heart could be played with - and she had lost sight of that for a long time. She could see the people begin to send off their kin, and she had no one to send off. So she just sat there drinking, more mead, if she got drunk, maybe it'll drown out the loneliness she felt . A silly thought, she mused, scoffing to herself. She took her finger around the rim of her cup, bored, and she could see Cornaith seeing off his brother. Her eyes noticing the how Catori's paint was now on him, and she felt her eyes narrowed. She was angry at him , but this wasn't her usual anger, one that was playful - it was a jealous anger, one backed by hurt and anger. She didn't care for the women he slept with, because after all they couldn't measure up to her, and now - she felt inadequate, compared to Catori, and no one should feel that small. Why was she so scared to lose him, when he clearly wasn't worried about losing her ?
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Darkseeker
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Cyrus Terosh | Warrior | Mentions: Alvaerelle (Dir.) Apprentices, Elders, Ivan, Ravae(Indir.) Cyrus was stomping his way through the quieter area that led towards a portion of the homes, his ears flicking periodically at the soft sounds of nature. He could still feel the irritation vibrating beneath his skin, but something else played on his mind. The Elders had shipped the apprentices off so soon, no gear, no bags, no rest. It was cruel, as though they wanted them to fail, to perish. At the thought, a gentle growl rumbled in his throat. He knew Akith’ki would be fine, no matter the circumstances, but he would have thrived with at least a short rest before departing. The sound of water drew his attention, he paused in his stride and listened for a moment at the plopping of water into a basin. Cyrus turned his head to look over his shoulder, spotting the ethereal form of Alvaerelle, pouring clear water over her arm. A beat of panic rose in him, had she followed him to continue their argument? He had not meant to lash out at the female, in fact, he had no idea it was her that had approached him at that moment. She was simply the target of his pent up aggression, something he felt the tiniest bit guilty about. Was it because he cared about her or simply for the fact she was a queen, even he didn't know or particularly care to dwell on the idea. He turned his body to face her form, she was standing a little ways away, focused on her wound. Cyrus should just leave. He knew that. But he did not. Instead, the older warrior began walking back towards her, he could at least test the waters to see where they stood now. He thought they had progressed in their relationship, but after his little outburst, it may have all been ruined. On that note, Cyrus had not missed Ivan slipping away to follow her and the fact that they had returned together, Ivan looking particularly smug. The implication of that was enough to rise the annoyance and distaste towards the heir, especially now that Cyrus had to not only take orders from Catori, but from the brat too. Cyrus made no attempt to announce his presence before he spoke, no need to. “Alvaerelle.” His word was clipped, like he was holding back the storm of emotion that was swirling inside of him, simply so he could have a plain conversation with the woman. “I apologise for my behaviour, I should not have reacted like that. Even if it were not yourself to receive my anger, I should have directed it elsewhere.” Cyrus’s words remained taut and strained as he did his best to sound civil, something that was a very rare occurrence. His eyes roamed over her form briefly, trying to judge if anything had changed about her appearance since he last saw her. Well, she certainly looked royally ticked off, but other than that, she appeared to be fine. Then his eyes trailed down to her arm, studying the cut that ran along it, his lips pressed into a tight line. The red was stark against her skin and it looked irritated beyond belief. “You could request some comfrey and marigold to help calm that redness down.” He tried softly, eyes still lingering on the angry red mark. “Juniper to calm yourself too, been as you are so far in your pregnancy. I fear I have caused too much upset, juniper may help.” Cyrus drew his eyes slowly up to meet her piercing gaze. He retained simple healing information fairly easily, after decades of hearing his mate recite the herbs and their properties, Salacia would sometimes treat people in their home. Her dried herbs still lined the walls of one of the rooms, he refused to remove them. The dust on them was thick and he forbade Akith’ki from ever entering that room. It was her treatment room, herbs, comfortable furnishings, bandages, anything she could ever have needed was in there. Now it sat empty and soulless. “Ravae,” Cyrus barely managed to creep out her name, the twinge of despise still tainting his voice no matter how hard he tried to tamp it out. “May know where it is kept, if there are any stores left.” With that he turned his neck to look back over his shoulder to where he was walking before, he should leave now. He had said his piece. “Goodnight, Alvaerelle.” Cyrus took one last look in her direction, taking that moment to admire the moonlight on her narrowed gaze. He dipped his head in farewell and began to turn and walk away from her. His footsteps lighter than previously as he picked his way along the worn dirt path in the grass that led deeper into the trees and to his home.
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Darkseeker
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Esen Eradia || Apprentice || M: Other Apprentices, Elders, Koa, Alvaerelle (Dir); Ivan, Elariel, Others (Ind) The faintest smirk graced her otherwise gentle features at Syllivanna's response. So there wassomeone who'd caught her eye. Esen let the topic slide into the back of her mind as they stopped beside the three boys; her cousin had promised to spill the tea later, so there was no need to nag -- especially in front of the topics themselves. Her face smoothed over back to its typical placid appearance as she brought her head up to greet the three. Aelion was the only one Esen knew well. She, he, and Sarolta were fairly close, though as of late, Esen had been running around playing peacemaker for the two. Despite their friendships, she still hadn't heard what exactly went on between them, and while a part of her was dying to understand what calamity had befallen the twin flames, she wasn't about to ask. She just wanted her friends back. Basic pleasantries were exchanged, but that was all they had time for before the elders stepped up once again. Valae said they were leaving? Right now? They hadn't slept or prepared; what were the gods thinking? A dark, worming thought slipped into Esen's mind. Were the gods even thinking at all? Had they ever spoken in the first place? She blinked hard. Spending time with Sarolta was obviously getting to her. She loved the fiery girl, but Esen didn't share her thoughts on the trials or the elders... or did she? Esen clenched a fist around her satchell and nodded as Aelion excused himself. Her eyes searched for Alvaerelle, but she hadn't seen her aunt since the woman had disappeared into the woods earlier. Elariel was making his way to all his boys, Koa was frantically finishing his plate, and the crowd was thickening around the others. Her half-uncle managed to bolt over and grab her in a bear hug, causing a surprised yelp to escape her. Koa's hands clasped her shoulders and he huffed, "You ladies go kick some bogge ass for me; avenge my good looks." He ruffled her hair, earning a playful growl, before dashing off again, presumably to try and catch Sarolta. Esen looked once more for Vae, about to give up, before the woman miraculously appeared and placed her hands firmly on the apprentice's shoulders. Relief flooded her senses, and she hardly even noticed Ivan returning. "Djarinn and Alkyre would be so proud of you." The girl's eyes stung all of a sudden at the words, her throat tightening. A hand quickly wiped them before the whole clan could see her cry -- no, it wasn't crying, just watery eyes was all -- and she swallowed hard to try and rid herself of the lump. She didn't allow herself to think of her parents much anymore. It only led to loneliness and self-pity, but Alvaerelle's confidence in their guidance during the trials brought a new sense of strength and reassurance. Esen stood a little straighter and raised her chin in an effort to be brave. She squeezed her aunt back in the hug and then turned to jog after Valae and Ula before the two could disappear entirely. It was going to be okay. They reached the flats as the sun was rising, and Esen became very grateful that her thick paint had not been smeared much during the festivities. It formed some barrier against inevitable burning, though it was also promising to deliver some interesting tan lines. She stepped into line with the other apprentices and bowed her head to receive the blessing of the elders -- and a map? Her eyes rose to meet Ula's in time to catch a wink. Esen's surprise made it to her expression and she blinked a few times. Was it their way of telling the stronger apprentices to play nice with her and the other, less physically imposing ones? Did they know she had a decent sense of direction? Was it just for fun? It was likely to remain a mystery, especially considering Ula was mute. The elders left immediately, anyway, leaving the group and the map in the scorching desert. A faint tugging sensation brought the girl's eyes up and further out into the barren wilderness, the odd sensation causing her to start walking that way, but she didn't want to be the one to speak just yet. She didn't want to seem... bossy. Esen was clutching the map when Syl offered her suggestion to cover in mud. Her blue hair tilted with her head as she considered it. Here would be the best place to do it, since they were still close enough to the forest that some water ought to have been lurking in the dirt beneath the top shell. However, not being the leading type at all, Esen just murmured her agreement and switched her gaze to Sarolta. Edited at October 5, 2024 10:14 AM by Mother
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Darkseeker
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Sarolta Cimmerian Apprentice | Mentions: Alvaerelle, Syl, Eden Indirectly: Akith, Cyrus, Elariel, Aelion, Koa, Apprentices Sarolta shifted on her feet, stepping aside to give Akith’ki and his father a moment of privacy. Normally, Saro carried herself with unwavering confidence, the kind that made it seem like nothing in the world could unsettle her. But watching this quiet exchange between father and son stirred something uncomfortable within her. It made her skin itch—how cold and distant Cyrus seemed. There were no words of encouragement, no wisdom imparted, only a detached and formal air, as though this moment held no real significance for him. The absence of warmth between Akith'ki and his father unsettled Sarolta more than she wanted to admit. She had expected at least a hint of acknowledgment, some gesture of support. Instead, it was as if Akith'ki was being sent into the trials like an afterthought. She tried to focus on anything but them, until she heard his father’s footsteps fade. Only then did she dare glance at Akith’ki, her lips parting as if to offer words of comfort, but another voice interrupted—Elariel. Sarolta knew that Elariel had always been more of a father to Akith'ki than Cyrus could ever be. She felt an odd sense of relief as Elariel stepped in, his voice brimming with love and care as he spoke to Akith'ki. There was an emotional tremor in his words, and Sarolta watched as he gave Akith'ki a gift before pulling him into a heartfelt embrace. Standing at a respectful distance, Sarolta exchanged brief nods of acknowledgement with Elariel before he hurried away, likely to find his nephews, Aelion and Kethryll’a. Her eyebrows arched slightly as Aelion called Akith'ki over. Sarolta only nodded as she watched the two young men come together. A restless energy surged within her; she needed to move. She trusted that Akith'ki would find her when the time was right. Whether she saw Koa or Alvaerelle again, she knew she’d make them proud. Just as she turned, her lovely aunt appeared before her, and Sarolta couldn’t help but smile brightly. Alvaerelle, the woman who had cared for her like a second mother, embraced her. Saro’s breath caught in her throat at her aunt’s words—mentioning her deceased parents was always a delicate subject. It tugged too deeply at her emotions, but she nodded, allowing Alvaerelle's touch to ground her. “I will. I’ll make sure we all return,” Sarolta promised, her voice steady, though her earlier harsh words to Akith’ki rang in her ears. Despite everything, she didn't want anyone to die in these trials. She’d be damned if any of the apprentices perished. At the mention of Koa, her uncle, she glanced around one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. “Tell Koa I’ll bring him back a trophy,” Sarolta said with a playful gleam in her eyes. “Thank you, Alvaerelle, for everything. I’ll make you and Koa proud. Take care of yourself—and the triplets. Don’t let them wear you out too much.” She squeezed her aunt’s hands before stepping back, turning to follow the fading torchlight of the Elders. By the time they reached their destination, the sun had just begun to peak above the trees, casting a suffocating heat over the clearing. The air felt thick and stifling. Sarolta stiffened as Valae’s voice echoed through the group, her expression neutral as Ula began blessing the apprentices. She had to fight the urge to shrink back—or worse, bite Ula’s hand as she passed by. When Ula handed a map to Esen, Sarolta felt a swell of pride for her cousin. Yet, as the Elders made their eerie and vague departure, Saro felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning, her gaze met Esen’s vibrant eyes, her grip tight around the map. Without a word, Sarolta gently squeezed her cousin’s arm, hoping to offer some reassurance. Sarolta frowned, her focus shifting to the expanse of desert before them. The blistering heat and seemingly endless dunes stretched out ahead like a trial in itself. She vaguely heard Syllivanna’s suggestions—something about using mud to combat the sun’s harsh rays and leaves for water. Sarolta nodded absentmindedly. Mud or even just dirt would be useful, but her mind was already far beyond that. “Syl’s right, covering ourselves in mud will help with sun protection,” Sarolta said, her voice steady but urgent. She paused, glancing up at the sky, where the sun was beginning to creep higher, its rays already intensifying. “But we need to move quickly. Before the heat becomes even more unbearable, even with the mud for protection.” Sarolta could feel time slipping away, the oppressive heat of the desert intensifying with each passing moment. Her gaze shifted to Esen, her eyes dropping momentarily to the map clutched in her cousin’s hand. All she knew about that map was it was glamoured. They all knew that. They had been trained for this, hearing stories about the trials for as long as they could remember. The first artifact they needed to locate was the Volcanic Heart. With a deep steadying breath, she turned stalking into the dark forest line. It wouldn't take them long to find mud, the forest was filled with little wetlands. Edited at October 6, 2024 10:43 AM by The Bewitched
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