Private Limited Only by Preconceptions

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth

Vytal Noctura, Nightmother of the Mandragora, stood at the far end of the Reflection Hall. Her green eyes gazed across the lush forest that surrounded the Castle in Ryloth's green belt, tucked away in a valley with mountains a fair ways off but on all sides. The warmth of the planet's sun cast itself over the pale flesh of the Dathomiri woman and her black facial tattoos; a harsh reminder the world was not that of the Nightsisters, and yet the world was far from bereft of its own power.

Power. Yes, that was what brought her there. The small matter of a recent addition to the coven coming to terms with the wider world, and their self. There were many experienced Witches or Warlocks that could have taken such a student under their wing, of course. Despite the Knights Obsidian recent efforts to encourage more Magick Users to venture into the field, the Castle had lost few of its number. However, there were times when even the Nightmother might instruct an individual. Someone of notice, or in need of special education. Perhaps merely to ensure she did not become isolated from people and different view points.

Today, it was the power of Shamira Karuto which drew the Nightmother to this place. In turn, she had summoned the young woman to attend as well; for there was no learning without a student to educate.

She is willful.

Really? Vytal wouldn't so much as stir at the sound of the large double doors at the far end of the hall opening to admit the student. "Then when she is ready, she will capable of anything." What was one that communed with spirits without the strength of will? Jart wouldn't complain about someone being of strong mind.

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #1

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If you would’ve told Shamira that, only a few weeks into the future, she would have taken magical rides on ships of metal, gone to a land of nightmares and spirits, and become a part a group of her own people, she might have laughed in your face and declared the only way that those things would ever happen were if she died at the hands of the inquisitors. In fact, she almost had escaping off her cursed homeworld. She still had the bruises of the final escape. Now? The young witch had found herself a part of a much bigger galaxy that was suddenly very much more vast than anything she could have imagined, and just as frightening.

There was something about finding out how backward and technologically behind your planet was compared to the galaxy surrounding it that had the impressive ability to make someone feel very small. Very, very small. Smaller than even when her kind was hunted on the planet. At least then she had a concrete idea of what each day looked like, or at least what her enemy looked like. After being rescued, however, things became much more fluid and much less concrete. It was unnerving, scary.

For now, she had decided that focusing on herself, what sort of things she could do with the magically ability she had been blessed with. Perhaps that would allow her to find her place in this vast galaxy better than mindlessly wandering it. Thankfully, this castle seemed full of teachers willing to help her do exactly that. She had spent the first few days wandering the endless halls and exploring the library, both ending with her being lost by the end. This entire castle seemed like a never ending maze designed specifically to mess with her head.

Still, despite the embarrassment of having to ask for directions multiple times, she had been able to learn a few things. Her full ability with pyromancy was starting to appear again, as well as learning a few tricks with the healing ability that her mother had taught her. The practice subjects that she had been allowed to practice on were able to be healed with small to medium cuts now. It was small progress, but progress none the less.

However, learning anything new outside of those two abilities was proving extremely difficult. Shamira honestly just didn’t know how to go about it. What she hadn’t been expecting, however, was a summoning to meet the nightmother. For what? She didn’t know. But the woman had lead the crew that rescued her, so she at least deserved the curtesy of meeting for that very fact, the redhead mused. Among other reasons, of course.

It, of course, took her a few tries to find the pools, finally opening the doors to see both the pool and the taller woman, releasing a exasperated sigh of relief as she saw both. Again, navigating this place was proving to be pain that left Shamira with just the worst of headaches at times. Thankfully, there wasn’t much of one to fight off as she approached the ashen skinned woman, clearing her throat. She didn’t know if the woman had noticed her, but she hadn’t moved since Shamira had entered. Perhaps she was just lost in thought. “Excuse me..nightmother, you summoned me?” She questioned, Spanish accent peaking at the end of each sentence. Whatever the reason she had been brought her made her genuinely curious. Stopping a few feet behind the nightmother proved her ability to hold in her curiosity, at least for now, waiting to be summoned closer before approaching.

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[Vytal Noctura]

After a moment, the pale woman's head shifted just enough to look over her shoulder and back at Shamira. Young, ignorant, but eager to learn. The best kind of student. Perhaps not quite brave or confident in herself, especially since she'd been introduced to a world that was thousands or millions of times larger than Shamira had ever been led to believe possible... But such things came with time and devotion.

The Nightmother's head turned back so she could stare out across the horizon laid out from the height of the tower in which they resided. For this exercise, Vytal had blocked the entire Hall so others would not be disturbed by raised voices or even demonstrations of power. Given such ideal circumstances, she called out clearly without turning to look back at Shamira again, "Come here, Shamira."

She would wait patiently until the other woman set foot upon the balcony and could see out over the surface of Ryloth as well. The tree tops of the surrounding forest, the peaks of the mountains that lined their valley, tops of other towers of the Castle, people, an occasional animal, and even the rare vehicle likely transporting goods or used by some of those with limited magickal ability stationed there. There was much to see, and so the Nightmother asked, "What do you see?" Perhaps the young Witch might even catch a glimpse of one of the dragons basking in the sun on a tower, or having caught a current soaring over head.

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

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Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots, backpack of survival tools
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #2

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Being honest with herself, the tall witch scared the redhead. Something about her aurora was intimidating, so much so that she mentally jumped when she was addressed to come closer. She almost didn’t want to, yet nothing was ever going to get done by standing around and dishonoring her host. So, despite her mind fighting against it, Shamira slowly approached the witch, ending up right by her side. The size difference was much more noticeable now. Her shoulders were held forward, trying to appear as confident as possible in the presence of someone so powerful.

Something she noticed, in that moment of silence, was that it seemed like they were totally alone in the room. Before Vytal started to speak, she turned to scanned over the room, unsure of how something like this was happening. Perhaps this was just something this crazy castle could do. Or…her eyes glanced up to the woman, studying her for just a moment, before being snapped out of it by the spoken words.

Her eyes peeled away from studying the woman, turning to look out at the window to the forest. It was gorgeous. Huge. Bigger than anything than she had ever seen. From a view that could only be achieved by standing atop the tallest towers. Little things could be seen working their way through the treetops, and little things…called speeders, she believed, buzzed over the very tip tops of the trees. It was an interesting dynamic, things that reminded her of her home with the trees, and the brand new things like those metal fliers.

“I..I see..the forest. I reminds me of home. There was a forest nearby, somewhere that many witches used to hide.” Shamira didn’t know if this was the answer that she was supposed to give. Was she supposed to see something more? Was this a test? Perhaps this wasn’t a test, but it was beginning to feel like one.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

It was a test, but not one that Shamira might pass or fail. Vytal's gaze lingered on the trees for a moment after the young woman spoke her peace. "The forest," the Nightmother echoed. Slowly she turned to look at Shamira as she'd taken to standing at Vytal's side. "One forest whose roots have dug deep into a planet. Whose trunks stretched out toward the sky. Whose branches and leaves unfurled to catch the sun. A forest where beast roam, and spirits play. And over it float more creatures, and more spirits. Ever higher the sky thins, the stars rage, and countless voices cry out small and large as a great host of life stirs." She paused to smile for just a moment. "We'll start with one forest."

"In one forest, on another world, perhaps you learned how to conjure magick of one form. It came to you. Whispered on the wind by the spirits, or in your dreams; an urge to channel it, or a need. It was your beginning, as it is with many. However," Vytal turned the rest of her body slightly to face Shamira, "it was only a beginning."

Her left hand extended out into the hall to levitate two chairs to join them before the view under the rays of the sun. "Tell me what it is you would do, Shamira, if you had all the power in this realm or the next. What would you build? What would you destroy? Would you save the powerless, punish the wicked, or isolate yourself from the plights of the galaxy content to be left to your own thoughts?" The Nightmother lowered herself into one of the chairs. A small table and a pitcher of chilled water soon joined them. The vessel lifted then and poured out the contents into the two glasses set within reach of each woman.

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

​

Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots, backpack of survival tools
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #3

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As much as the words would typically overwhelm her, especially after the last few days, the presence of the nightmother was calming enough that the idea of the roots digging deep enough into the ground that they could touch the sky wasn’t too crazy to her. As much as the concepts of starships and sprites were truly foreign to her, it wasn’t as though they couldn’t be understood. Everything had it’s place. Even shamira. She just needed help figuring out where that was place was. Starting with just one forest, a small sample, would be a good idea.

Her eyes turned to watch as the chairs floated toward them. Such use of their powers seemed so..nonchalant. Doing something like that would have never crossed her mind before the rescue. Now? It was being used to lift chairs and tables around. And, truly..it was nice. To able to embrace who she was, what she was, among others that wanted to see her succeed and thrive. She took the empty seat next to the nightmother, listening to her words while an answer formulated on the very tip of her tongue.

“Well, I..” She trailed off, biting her bottom lip as those blue eyes pulled away from the nightmother to look out the window instead. She wanted to give the right answer. Build things to help people, and save the powerless, of course. That was the answer that she should give. The one her parents would want her to give. Yet, an anger burned inside her. One that had been burning since the very first witch burning that she had attended. When her eyes focused back on the taller woman, they spoke a story of mixed sadness, and rage.

“I would like to help the helpless…but there are those that deserve punishment. Those that killed and killed, and felt justified in doing so…” Her first curled into a ball, head dipping so those auburn locks framed her face, shielding her features from the other woman’s gaze. “I want the power to go back and punish them myself. To..to..end their horrifying rule.” A small sniffle followed, lifting her forearm to give her eyes a quick wipe. She could have lied, given the seemingly right answer. But there was always the possibility that Vytal would see through her. Besides, what would be the point in stretching the truth anymore?

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"Power comes in many forms," the Nightmother replied calmly. "I can teach you how to punish them. Burn their dwellings to the ground, set them ablaze and hear their frantic and powerless cries of endless terror. However," the pale woman looked straight at Shamira for a moment, "what will come of it? Consider how those that behold your command of death will react. Shock. Horror." She slowly lifted the glass of water from the table. "Rage."

After a cool drink of water, which provided a chance for Shamira to think or reflect on what was said, the Nightmother regarded the young Witch once more. "Would punishing the wicked convince others not to become wicked themselves? Fear is only effective for so long, and constant fear of reprisal makes you no less a monster than those you punished." Was it ironic that a Nightsister would be saying this? Hypocritical, perhaps? Not from where Vytal sat. Shamira -- and many others in the Mandragora or Confederacy -- were not of Dathomir. Their ways were not the ways of offworlders; and the ways of the Nightsisters were subtler than most could imagine. The horror and grotesque means the pale women pursued were done with a precision most failed to see from the instinctive, emotional reaction to witnessing it.

"Someday you will learn of a means to punish them; one that will not merely be retribution for their wickedness, but set their society on a new path. One where those that follow will turn away from hunting those like us. They will create a world where those that sought to hunt you become the hunted. However," the Nightmother set the glass down, "you must lead this to them so they come to it themselves. It cannot be forced. Anything born of rage and hatred is easily undone."

"We'll begin will introducing you to the endless possibilities of the spiritual realm. From there you'll find subjects that call to you. Let the punishment of the wicked come in due time. Let your Brothers and Sisters, and the spirits guide you." A small smile graced her lips. "We do not restrict what is studied so long as it does not place your fellow Sister and Brother in danger; and as long as it does not encourage fools to behave as those on your world did. For if any of their ilk ever drew near our door, not one would return." Vytal only desired Shamira not to be consumed by her rage as a Sith might. There would be no lessons of respecting all life and capturing rather than killing one's enemy from her lips. A Nightsister was of firm resolve, and a Nightmother as merciless as the heavy winds that tore the skin from the planet and set to motion the heavens.

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

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Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #4

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Shamira couldn’t help but bury her head into her chest, fists clenching and un-clenching as the nightmother spoke her peace. It wasn’t out of anger. Quite the opposite, actually. Everything the woman said was completely true of the consequences that would come to her world if she took the actions that she had spoken of. And because of that, the embarrassment that washed over the younger witch at the thought of her even suggesting it was overwhelming.

Vytal was completely right. The people on her planet, or at least some of them that had been close to the redhead, hated the church. But they didn’t hate them solely for their actions, they hated them for what they stood for. Complete and utter domination, ruling over every part of their lives and taking from them what they had believed it. If she was to gain the power to rid them from the planet, and went there with a vengeance, killing them without mercy, would it really show anyone that she was better than them? Would they turn from their ways just because she came in and killed them? Out of anger, out of revenge? They might even begin to hate her if that was the case.

The redhead awaited the beginning part of the speech to feel complete before speaking, though her mind seemed to focus on the last line that the nightmother spoke. “If things born of rage and hatred can be easily undone…then can the church on my planet be undone with ease? Do they not sit on their thrones, looking down upon our people, killing them with an anger because of the threat they may have on their power?” She leaned forward, eager to hear the answer as her eyes stayed locked on the nightmother’s. If this power structure was as susceptible as the woman meant, if her words were supposed to lead Shamira’s mind in this way, then perhaps it wouldn’t take much to crumble their foundation from underneath them.

When the conversation shifted to actual learning, Shamira found herself leaning back into her seat, pulling her knees up to hug them tightly. Her chin rested atop her knees, tilted slightly as she listened to the possibilities, and dangers, that might come from her studies. “How does one go about communing with these spirts? It wasn’t something my…” Spanish accent tainted voice trailed off momentarily, as did her eyes, as the train of thought in her mind moved to the fate of her parents. There were a few moments of silence until Shamira was able to shake it, turning back to Vytal with a sorrowful smile. “My parents ever got to teach me. The most I really learned was a few fire tricks and how to make some small remedies.”

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[Vytal Noctura]

A soft laugh followed the young woman's question. The Nightmother nodded at first in response. "No, it cannot." A deliberate, second-lone pause followed what might seem to be a confession. "Acts of rage and hatred are undone by acts of rage and hatred. They become a self-feeding cycle where one group takes dominion over another. It never ends, and those swept up in it lose all memory of why it ever began. It becomes comfortable. Familiar. They can't think of living any other way -- rage and hatred is all they've ever known toward The Enemy."

Slowly, Vytal leaned forward and reached out with one hand toward Shamira. "But this does not need to be the fate of your world. Nor do you need to let the Church do as it pleases and suffer beneath their cruelty. But first you must understand your enemy. Why do people follow them? What secrets do they hide? They are not so innocent as they would seem." Another pause, her eyes remain with Shamira, watchful of the woman's reactions. "To be rid of them, you will need to turn the people against the Church. It will be slow and painful, but when your cause becomes their cause whatever resistance the Church raises will only fan the flames of the insurrection to their power. Much as those without magick do not fight fires by dancing with the flame's tips, but instead strike at its base -- the source of that flame -- so must you if you desire a lasting peace."

Not that peace was ever lasting without effort. There would be resentment. Efforts to return to the 'old ways' (which weren't truly how things had always been). Vytal never promised Shamira an easy path if she desired to save those like herself back home. Nor did she claim violence was not the answer. Sometimes it worked, but then you had to be certain you annihilated every last practitioner or they would rise again and the cycle would repeat.

After a time, Shamira and Vytal turned to the spirits. The start to a young Witch's road. Hopefully one that would bring fulfillment. "You must still your mind and listen to the currents of the world. We are all part of the flow of life in the galaxy, but we can be so easily distracted from it all sense of that oneness is lost. Few ever reconnect with it, and in so doing becomes a Witch." Strangely, as Vytal had come to understand it, this was similar to practitioners of the Light Side of the Force. Quite strange seeing how the Nightsisters were apparently of the Dark Side of this Force. "But do not listen to those that say you need to surrender to these currents," the Nightmother waved her hand off to one side to dismiss such a notion. "You must listen, but you must also speak. If you do not enter the realm of spirits, they will not know your ears have been opened and will not speak to you." And that, perhaps, might be the 'Dark' influence -- where one's 'selfish' imposition on the cosmos did not seek to become one with it, but instead sought to bend its ear.

Here she would pause and regard Shamira to see if this made sense, or what questions the younger woman might have of this matter.

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

​

Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #5

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Things just seemed so complicated now that Shamira was observing the actions and the people from the outside looking in. No longer was she to observe the people that owned her homeworld from just a normal witch’s perspective. Vytal seemingly sought to open her eyes to exactly what was necessary to take them down, and why they were so imbued. The more she spoke, the harder the act of taking back her homeworld sounded. It almost sounded impossible. Which only served to dampen the younger witch’s mood.

Once the white woman’s hand touched her shoulder, however, the redhead’s eyes glanced up to meet the Nightmothers. Understanding the enemy, without becoming one or even falling to their actions seemed like a mountain of a task. But it didn’t sound like this was a mountain she’d have to climb alone. “If I can help them understand that if they rise up..they will not be killed instantly, but protected..perhaps they may subscribe to the cause much easier.” Her hands curled into fists on the table, eyes casted downward for a moment as doubt swept over her mind. How could she possibly convince enough people of that fact? How could she even protect that many people?

These doubts would stay, a cloud over her mind, as the conversation shifted to one not of the material realm. Perhaps it was this that made things hard to understand, or the topic itself. More than likely a combination of both, the witch thought to herself. Everything was talked about in such terms that it made it hard to figure out who to do things practically. She chewed on her lip, mulling over the questions racing through her mind before turning back to Vytal, nodding slowly. “I’ll admit..that is confusing. But…” A little shrug, followed by small smile peaked at the edges of her lips. “That is probably because I have neither experienced, nor know how to make the things you talked about occur.”

Her smile turned more sheepish, knowing that her stream of questions was about to flow toward the Nightmother quickly enough. Not that she was too embarrassed about it. That curiosity was starting to bubble forth again, the dark cloud of earlier in the conversation beginning to be lifted. “But what does this spirit realm look like? How does it contain these spirits? Does everyone become a spirit? Do all of them talk to us?” Shamira’s demeanor had changed now, leaning forward in her seat as she awaited the answers from the powerful witch. Talk of her home was certainly a sensitive topic for now, but when she was distraced, that curious nature was surely showing out.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

For the time being, Vytal let Shamira contemplate the matter of her home without further comment. They should speak on it again, once the young woman had given it thought and perhaps come to some new realizations of her own. It would be convenient to say her road would be easy -- if inspiring a revolution or a renaissance back home was Shamira's goal. Such was not the way of things, however. Not for an outcome worthy of the trouble.

Quiet laugher bubbled between Vytal's dark lips as she settled back in her chair. The Nightmother's head turned so she could observe Shamira once more. "Spirits..." Given Shamira's background, the Dathomiri woman sought to put into words such complicated subjects. "Picture a broad leaf suspended over a pond on a sun-lit day. A faint mist rises from the surface of the pond, caresses the leaf, and eventually forms a drop at the leaf's tip. The pond is the pool of all life -- The Force, if you listen to Jedi and Sith -- from which we are all born and to which we will return. The mist is the energy that forms new life, which takes its form upon the leaf. And the drop, which falls from that leaf into the pond, our return upon death." She paused a moment to make sure Shamira had followed the description thus far.

"That is the natural order of mortal life. Spirits are conscious energy that came from the pond, but float in the space between it and the leaf; or a drop that refuses to complete its return to the pond. Sometimes one soul that refuses to return breaks into many, lesser spirits. A rarer few retain possession of their sense of identity and linger either near the leaf where they seek to return, or in the space between for reasons all their own." It was not a perfect metaphor, but it should suffice. What offworlders called a terrarium would have been better, but the commonality of glass in Shamira's world was not well-known to Vytal.

Vytal took another, slow drink of water before continuing. "The Netherrealm is the place between the pond and the leaf. It does not contain the spirits so much as the spirits cannot touch the leaf to become mortal once more. Its appearance is shaped by those that enter it, as it is not a planet like the one we enjoy now. It is not a realm that requires the light of a star, the ever-present hand of gravity, or even the solid resistance of the ground. Its inhabitants are spirits and they have no use of it. They exist with us, and yet apart from us. They are with us right now. Do you see them?"

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #6

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Her slew of questions earned her a very intricately detailed and woven analogy of all life in the force. It was actually something, for once, shamira felt that she could follow. It started off simple enough, with the cycle of life detailed easily through the waters journey. Even back on her homeworld, she had seen or felt this type of cycle repeat over and over. Of course, the entire cycle of reincarnation wasn’t able to be observed, but the whispers of it through the force could be felt. Her mother had taught her that far, believing she needed to understand and feel the cycle before actually being taught to communicate with these spirits.

However, this was where it seemed to become much sadder. This was not something she had ever heard, as it was not a lesson her mother had ever got to teach her. Why these spirits refused to come back to the land of the living, having their own reasons for doing so, hit the redheaded witch deeply. It didn’t make sense, but then again, if they had reasons only they understood, it wasn’t meant for her to understand. “These spirits…when they stay so long in this nether, are they changed in any way? The ones that retain who they were, are they influenced by this land between the living and the dead?”

She paused her questions once the woman reached for her drink to take a sip. Couldn’t let her curiosity get in the way of not being rude. But before she could begin again, the nightmother had begun to speak, causing her to quickly close her mouth in response. The netherrealm was a much less simple idea to have to try and understand. In Vytal’s analogy, it almost sounded like the place could be considered the mist between the leaf and the water. Her expression turned to one of slight embarrassment, red blush heating her cheeks as she spoke with a slight nervousness in her voice. “I don’t…I don’t know how to feel these spirits. I never attempted necromancy, and neither of my parents were profiencent in the practice either.”

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[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal smiled as she observed the young Witch bashfully admit she could not sense the spirits. "There's no shame in that. If it were so easy few mortals would rest at night." A soft laugh followed the brief vision of such a world. One that would need the Mandragora or those like it more than ever. "Fortunately, what I will teach you will not require years of training nor any 'natural' predisposition toward the art. Speaking with spirits is a skill I expect all Witches and Warlocks, in some fashion, have mastered over time whether they realize it or not. How easily they are understood or what power you can draw from them is often shaped by how much effort is put into communing with the spirits. You will have no need to learn how to raise the dead if you have no interest in that study, however." The depths of necromancy was not for everyone. It was a traditional Nightsister skill, but Shamira was not a Nightsister.

"Do not strain to hear them, or shout in the hope of receiving a reply. Instead, focus on opening yourself to the wider world around you. Do not try to use the five physical senses. Few spirits speak in a way mortal ears can hear them. Concentrate on feeling the currents in the mist between the pool of All and the dew drop of the living wash over you." The Nightmother sat forward in her seat and turned toward Shamira. "It is easier in the beginning to do this here in the Hall of Reflection where speaking normally forbidden. In closing your eyes, and far from the distractions of the material world, you can focus on slowly and evenly breathing in, breathing out. Do not try to hear them, simply listen. Know they are with you. What you believe holds more power than you may yet know." One didn't demand their soul to hear the spiritual world around them, nor command their physical shell to in turn listen to their spiritual. All it took was one encounter to reinforce the belief, and from there practice until it became as natural and autonomous as breathing.

Tag: Shamira Karuto

 

[Shamira Karuto]

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Location: The White Reflection Hall, Vureshakkairn Castle, Ryloth
Clothing: Purple cloak, matching boots
Tags: Vytal Noctura
Post: #7

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This all seemed way too far above Shamira’s head. Something like summoning the spirits to speak to them was something only whispered about back on her homeworld. It was something that seemingly only the best of the best were able to achieve. But, then again, nobody would’ve ever been able to speak of giant metal flying objects without sounding crazy before either. For her to be able to hear and possibly talk to these spirits, considering what she had seen recently, didn’t sound like the most crazy thing that she had heard these past few days. Especially when it was put in that extremely calm voice of Vytal’s.

With a nod, the redhead pulled her leads up in her chair, sitting in a cross legged position as she began to follow exactly what the nightmother prescribed. Breathing in, breathing out. Breathing in, breathing out. Breathing in, breathing out. Seemingly everything, including time, slowed around her. It was a meditative state that she had been in before. But something about this room, as silly as it might sound, made the quiet feel even more…silent. It was just her, in the darkness, with nothing making any sort of noise except for the calm breath escaping from her lips.

Then, something began to appear. It was faint at first. Barley audible, even over her other breath. But there was something. She couldn’t exactly put a finger on just exactly what it was. But with each breath, it seemingly grew louder, until the word, spoken over and over, could be heard clearly. A word, spoken in a voice that fractured the redhead to her core. “Shamira…”

Her breath hitched, eyes shot open, and a shot of flame appeared in a clenched hand. Her emotions were all over the place, fluctuating from sadness to confusion to anger all at once. Finally her eyes fell upon the nightmother’s, causing her to slowly put out the flame, eyes softening and breath returning to normal. “I…apologise.”

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[Vytal Noctura]

"What for?" Vytal's gaze returned to the young woman when she snapped out of her meditative state. "As a Nightsister I grew up being taught about spirits, and witnessed the ways my elders conjured their power. To hear, see, and feel them was no different than coming across my first rancor -- something bound to happen, and required great care in order to survive." The green eyes of the Witch regarded Shamira for another moment. "You handled your first encounter well to recover so quickly. You didn't even shoot flame into the sky."

Slowly, Vytal slid forward and reached out with one hand to lay it gently upon Shamira's. "There are many ways to commune with the spirits. Some powers and knowledge can only be achieved using particular rites, or by contacting certain kinds of spirits. With practice you will be able to hear the voices of those that do not conceal themselves without needing to concentrate. But do not rush. Focus on understanding how to heard them; what did it feel like, how did the energy in you and around you flow out between the realms? You may even come to find a particular kind of spirit more to your liking, which will shape the magick you study."

"Now, before I bore you to tears with my preaching, how did it feel, Shamira? What questions have you?"

Tag: Shamira Karuto