Private They are Crying across the Land.

[Miera Erevos]

The Ruins of Hljóðleva​

Location Isilmore, the edge of the Wolf Woods
Tag: [ Brynjar Threist ] [ Declan Durinson ]
Music: None of us are free, Lynyrd Skinner


Miera walked slowly through the woods, pulling the soft, warm wool more tightly around her. Even here, in their hidden shelter, she moved like a ghost. It would do her no good to be silent, of course; you could not hide from yourself. Glancing behind her, she felt an odd moment of amused concern. But no, she did not think any of those so-dominant wolves would have heard that thought.

Around her, silvered raindrops gilded the thick forest canopy. Ghostly stone monoliths were wreathed in thick ground fog. So beautiful; mystical even to mundane senses, but breathtaking when she let her true-self unfurl and drank it in fully. Heedless, she let the thick cloak fall away, moonlight painting runes upon her face.

There it was. A single beam of silvered moonlight, coaxing her onward. A faint sound reminiscent of song, though the voice which usually comforted her was absent. Shimmering, ancient scents that were an echo of the battle that had shattered the small temple yet been unable to desecrate the earth itself filled the air.

The cave remained untouched, even yet.

Beneath the vision of violence rose one of music, dance. This place was sacred to Hljóðleva, an ancient if minor deity of the Lupos. Dance, song, joy itself were the gods domain and delight. Here, Miera sought comfort from the doubts which assailed her. How could she protect Aelin, amidst so much chaos? So much change had come, far too swiftly, for the cautious and careful Priestess. So she returned to this sacred sight and settled upon the stones at the entrance to the cave. Slipping off shoes and silken stockings, she let her toes dangle in the icy water. Behind her, the winds rippled through the cave, mimicking music.

Or perhaps they were the essence of song itself! For a time, she lost herself in the sound, humming quietly to the wild, mystic rhythm. A soft percussion note was worked into the song; for long seconds she did not know them as footfalls.

A tremor of fear shook her. Flinching back, ready to flee, she shrouded herself in shadow. Even as she reached for raw power, she recognized the scents on the wind. Instinct froze her in place. The wild wolf, suitor to her sister, was here. Show no weakness to a predator. He would chase if she fled and it would likely end in blood. So instead she slipped her feet back into the water. He knew that she knew that he knew she was afraid. But she didn’t have to admit it.

Ever.

Dropping the shroud of darkness was easy … she suspected he did not need mere eyes to find and destroy a foe. Lifting a hand she gracefully beckoned him closer; that was harder. “The water is cool, but the breeze from the sacred cave is warm.” Her voice was soft, sensual. Almost gentle. Miera was very good at pretending not to be afraid.

Which was good; there were two of them. Decklan was a baffling presence amongst the wolves her sister had collected. He moved like a warrior, spoke like a poet and courted like a Prince. Yet Miera felt she knew little of him; that his greater truths were hidden.

Much like Brynjar’s.

 

[Declan Durinson]

Fat drops of cold rain splattered his naked body causing goosebumps to rise up the copper skin of his arms and down his chest. He had been out running, out hunting as a wolf, exploring places he had never before seen. He knew The Wolf Wood was not truly safe for any wolf to run freely, he knew it better than most but he had taken care not to stray too far from the ruined temple they were calling home. It was a strange thing to consider himself part of a pack again but that seemed to be the truth of it. When they left Bellassa they were merely just a collection of the lost and rejected, members of a race that had been hunted to near extinction clinging to one another as a way to feel closer to something greater than themselves but through helping reunite one of their party with flesh and blood that had once been lost to them, they became something more.

Seeing the two sisters come together again after so long apart had stirred something in Declan. Before he had joined the fellowship that had left Bellassa he had been shown a vision. A vision that he had struggled to understand in the days after its coming and had, perhaps willfully misinterpreted it to mean The Gods willed him to help Aelin and perhaps they did but not as a means of fulfilling his vision, no, he thought now that the journey had been another sign from The Gods, a sign that he too must go and find his own flesh and blood.

When the gods speak, woe to the fool that ignores them.

The Gods here near the mouth of the cave not only spoke but they sang. It was a tune with words he could not make out but could fully understand without being able to articulate them and a melody that in turns lifted his spirits and crushed heart with its beauty. There were footsteps coming toward him and the cave's mouth.

"Do you hear it?" He called out to Brynjar and Declan in all his nudeness stepped into the young wolf's path joining him on his walk.

"Did The God's call to you as well?"



"The water is cool, but the breeze from the sacred cave is warm." a voice from near the water said to Dec and Bryn.

It was the wolf priestess that they had journeyed through the stars to find.

"Hello priestess!" Declan called back to her with no hint of shame at his nudity. "Come to dance with The Gods, then?"

Brynjar Threist Miera Erevos

 

[Brynjar Threist]

Location: Islimore
Tags: Miera Erevos | Declan Durinson

It had been generations since his family had set foot on the homeworld. He had heard stories of the world and the beauty that it contained, but the stories did not do the actual views justice. Brynjar was amazed to be the first Threist on Islimore in over 200 years, he was proud to be the first and to find more clans was an added bonus as well since it meant that his people were more able to survive than his parents previously thought. Everything seemed to be fitting into place and his role as Anasi seemed to be drawing nearer, at least that was how his parents viewed it. Being able to live on Islimore, build a life here and rebuild clan Threist, it meant that everything was ready for him to start making claims. Brynjar himself was less sure, everyone else he spoke to seemed to question his skills, his beliefs and views on things. He felt more like an outsider than an actual leader, he was working hard to prove his skills and abilities but focus was being drawn elsewhere. These were issues and feels he could not share though, his parents would berate him and insist that he destroyed any and all competition in some form of combat.

A walk through the woods, perhaps to see if any of the Gods would speak to him, share with him insight in what he should be doing next. They were all but silent, he knew they existed and he felt their presence when he connected to their power, the gift some call the Force, however whenever he wanted answers or guidance, they always seemed to fall silent. His mother would state this was due to the belief that an Anasi must think independently, that the gods cannot show the true leader the path, however there were times that Brynjar wondered if he had strayed so far from his true destiny that the gods abandoned him to his fate. Was he a lost cause in their minds? Were they fed up of his mother twisting their signs into what she wanted them to be instead of what they were meant to show? He was here, surrounded by others, yet he still felt alone. More now than ever before, since he knew there were people he liked, he wanted to connect to but he was having to see them as threats to his destiny not as companions or friends.

He noticed Declan appearing and questioning if he heard it, a call from the gods. Brynjar shook his head, he heard nothing and wasn't expecting company so couldn't find his voice right away. He had been lost in his own thoughts that his mouth felt dry and emotions were barely contained like usual. Brynjar coughed loudly a couple times, breathing slowly and letting his fears and anxieties slip under his walls once again so that he maintained the confident, strong aura that he usually had around others. "I was just exploring the area. Don't really listen out for the gods." Brynjar stated in a cool tone before sniffing the fear from Miera as he noticed her, with her feet in the water. Finding her was important to Aelin and it was good that their family was rebuilding and important for everyone that there seemed to be happy, joyful moments like when Miera and Aelin reconnected.

"What brings you to this cave?" Brynjar asked the woman, he was curious to know her more since his mother stressed it was important for a leader to know and understand not just enemies but those you intend to lead. Strength and empathy was needed. Though the way she described it at times felt more like manipulation than empathy.

 

[Miera Erevos]

Dance​

Location: Islimore --- shrine of Hljóðleva,
Appearance: human --- shrouded in shadow.
Tag: [ Brynjar Threist ] [ Declan Durinson ]

Oh.
He was naked. Declan Durinson was utterly unveiled before the night, surrendering to the gods, wild and free as the spirits of the Wood. She had not anticipated it from the so-civilized Bard. But then ... this place would rejoice in him, would it not? Miera forced her breathing to steady. The warm, composed greeting surprised her yet again. A grave, slow nod followed, as she deciphered the god's will in the pattern of events that brought them both here. It was a ritual she'd studied, dreamt of, heard tale of. but never ever performed in company, before. Let alone with deadly, handsome warriors she scarcely knew. Yet they mattered; to her, to Aelin -- to the gods.

Brynjar's breathing had changed, from the tension she'd interpreted as hunting, to calm and solid. That was more familiar to her. He turned what could have been a curt question into a gentle inquiry; the deliberate gentleness drew a small, fleeting smile. "The gods hunt me, Brynjar. They lured me here, to this shrine. It is my honor and duty to lend to the god's grace here."

She nodded to Declan, gestured gracefully to invite them both closer. "This was once a shrine to Hljóðleva, god of dance, music, joy." She stepped into the water, and the shadows rose up, half cloaking her, yet melting away her clothing. "If you wish, Brynjar, either the Bard or I can help you hear the song? Else you can simply dance your heart, and trust the gods to understand."