Participants:

Mac_icon.gif Seren_icon.gif

Scene Title No Inconvenient Grief
Synopsis Seren meets the Dalish newcomer
Location Courtyard, Circle of Magi
Date August 14, 2016
Watch For The comfort of birds
Logger Seren

14 of August, 9:31 Dragon

To say that Seren nearly lives in the courtyard these days is to say water is wet. Also, water is wet, and so is the huge nightwing in the fountain at this very moment, in the late evening with night nearly closing in. At least she's not being as loud as usual, her hoots are softer and there are no playful predator sounds echoing off the walls. The elf? He's merely sitting on the bench watching his feathered friend.

There was a rumor that someone had been brought in, near catatonic.. dumped into a room, not to emerge for days. Some that saw the wagon pull up, whispered that it was a child, so small a being. Others that it was a elf maiden, frail and wasted. All agreed on one thing, that there was a large black raven that never let the mage out of it's sight.

The robes were too large, by far, hanging from her body in thick heavy folds so that not even the small hands at the end of the sleeves could be seen. With the hood up, pull down low it was the heat that drove her out to the courtyard. That and Mor's restlessness, but mostly the heat and the fact that she couldn't seem to catch her breath in the stuffiness of the room. So it was that she stepped out into the courtyard, silent, small and coming to a stop at the sight of the Nightwing as she played in the foutain. Mor however, curiousness was his nature, it was directly towards the elf and bird that he choose to go.

Look, you don't get to be a person within sight range of Revas and NOT get a greeting. So the robed figure? Gets one of those upside down head things that all owls seem to be able to perform, and Mor? Mor is tinybird, this means that strange sound that's somewhere between coo and hoot that nature might have intended for the soothing of hatchlings (except that Revas is… the oddest of nightwings). Seren himself spots the figure and nods. Of course he's guessing based on height and the baggy robes- which can we talk to the circle about this 'all the robes are for humans' thing? Really?- that his greeting is appropriate. If not? He's Dalish. He's professionally weird here. "Aneth ara."

That greeting has an odd effect on the figure.. her head snaps up, strands of silvery white falling into sight from behind the hood, eyes finding him fromt he depths of her hood, though still far enough away for the shadows to conceal her features. It is not something she had heard in… how long, did she even really know and the words come to her lips with a strangeness of one coming home after a lifetime away. "Aneth ara" the softness of her voice pure, soothing, as clear cool water.

Mor, however is all eyes on Revas, landing on the edge of her play yard with a caw of his own to answer her greeting, before he fluffs out his black wings to scope at the water as well.

Seren nods toward the birds. "No matter how caged we are, we can at least appreciate their freedom," he observes. "Revas will appreciate having another bird around. … then again, I sometimes think she sees us all as strange birds." Revas- named exactly for the freedom her elf no longer possesses- is more than glad for the company. "I had heard another Dalish mage was here. My name is Seren Tylluan. At one point, from Rivain."

"Seren Tylluan.." his name repeated as if she isn't sure that she heard it correctly, still watching from her place near the outer edge of the courtyard. Turning her attention for just a moment towards the playing birds, watching as Mor takes it on himself to splash at Revas. "He hasn't really had the ability to play much lately." a few steps closer, before her hands, small delicate lift to pull back the hood. Pale, not only pale but ashen, her cheek bones sharp against her skin as if there was nothing between them and the skin. Bright crystal blue eyes, slightly sunken with dark circles maring her fair skin "Macenaya Korlhen"

"Revas takes every opportunity she can to play," Seren replies. Indeed, the nightwing is splashing in kind, though she seems well aware that her huge wings need to be kept in check. "I would say that it's nice to meet you, but I had hoped to see no other Dalish here. We hardly belong in cages." Of course, he hasn't missed those dark circles and his brow furrows in concern. "If you are unwell, I'm a healer." It's an offer that he's obviously not going to press.

"She is beautiful." Maceyana stops a few feet away, hand folding in front of her as she watches the birds. "Mor would play but he will not leave me when I fall." a small smile pulling at her lips at the delight of her friend as he wings his way to the other side to splash at Revas from behind. Finally bringing her eyes back to Seren. "I have not been well for a long time." there is a small tilt to her head. "He said there was another Dalish, I had forgotten."

Revas heard that and her response is a pose that would make any nightwing proud, except she's going straight back to play, so it's 'statue' followed by floofbird. Floofbird who may have fallen backwards in the water trying to take on the splashing Mor. "I think she says thank you," He translates. "…fall…" There's a long sigh. "It may be the only way to be free of this place." Look, Seren is the LAST guy to try to convince anyone to live their days here. "If you like, I can try. There are some things that are beyond me. Despite the name, we really can't heal the spirit. …he?"

The floofbird, for her pose and antics, get something that may well be a smile. A soft warming of those blue eyes, the stark planes of her features show more the girl she should be instead of the ghost she seems to have become. "I speak only the truth but she is welcome." At his sigh pulling her eyes back to him, head dipping as he acknowledges the escape that the blackness brings. "Any yet, each time, I find myself surfacing again. I am not sure what you can do. I was weeks, perhaps months this time. I loose track of how time moves when it happens.. The Templar, he came to tell me…"she pauses, eyes closing as the pain of Cenn's news slashes at her. ".. he mentioned that there was another Dalish here, that you were to perform burial rights."

"Cenn," Seren provides. "I offered the ceremony for the lost, yes. In my clan, we learn it but I don't think it's been performed in generations. It's meant to reach out to those we lose and have no opportunity to say goodbye to. I have everything ready, Cenn has to find the opportunity for it to happen. I know the loss still holds him like shackles made of stone." He gestures toward the other mage. "As for doing something, I would have to touch you with magic and I would need your permission for that."

As he talks, explaining what he is to do, pointing out Cenn's pain, her own rushes back to the surface, almost crushing her with the harshness so that for a moment she stumbles. Not that it had been far away to begin with, the weight of it pressing against her small frame. Watching him, tears roll silent and mostly unrealized down her cheeks as she wraps her arms tightly around her body. "Please… not yet."

"You knew him too," Seren guesses. "It seems this place has collected those who were close to this man." He lets out a sigh and watches the playing birds for a few seconds before speaking again. "At least there'll be some meaning to my capture. One more act as my Keeper's first." It's like a list and he's ticking off the items on it. "Please know I grieve for your loss. There's too much of that here. You, Cenn, Katerena. I wonder how much loss and pain they'll fill this place with before it spills out."

"My loss?" she whispers the words as if they are foreign as if they could never carry the weight. "My heart.. my soul.. my way out of the darkness." Maceyana's hand lifting to push back the tears, only to have more take their place. From the fountain Mor seems to realize that all is not right, abandoning his play to wing towards the girl, landing on the front of those robes, to let out small chirping caws as his feathered head nuzzles at her chin. "It is why I do not know if your magic would do any good. I do not know that there is anything left to heal."

Even Revas, with her instinct toward mothering, stops her play and wings her way from the water to settle at the woman's feet- not willing to try to find a spot to perch her big body on the woman's shoulder- and fluffs up in that comforting nesting posture. "Maceyana," Seren begins. "When you lose hope…" He gestures toward their location in general. "There is very little here to restore it. Even if you find that, it's not always the salve to your wounds everyone thinks it is. …but I do know that, as long as you breath, there is something left. Whether you wish to heal that or not is up to you. I, of all people, can't tell you that you should. Not when you've lost someone you loved so…" He takes a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. "When you lose all that you've loved, finding a reason to go on seems pointless. Yet sometimes being one of the people who hold that person's memory is all the reason that's needed."

Maceyana seems to sink to the ground. In truth she has only been out of her bed a couple days and those days have been harder than most, it was either sit or fall and with the birds around her. Her cheek pressed down into the black feathers that nuzzle against her as she tries to catch her breath. "My brother.. my twin." comes the whisper.

"Creators," Seren curses as he stands to sit on the ground next to the other mage. Revas seems to see no problem with settling in nearby, offering her huge presence in comfort. "I can't give you any words that make your loss seem less. I can offer what I offered to Cenn. The ceremony, the seed to plant in the ashes, and my ear and shoulder if you need them. For as long as I am here in this place." At least it's not the human assurances that loss lessens over time. He knows better.

She is quiet for a long moment after he sits, the three of then around her. Its a moment where she breaths..willing her breaths to slow to easy, until the soft hicupping fades and she can find her voice again. "I am sorry. I had thought I could not cry any more.. that air would help." clear crystal eyes opening again, a trembling hand reaching carress each bird lightly before dropping back into her lap. "I am not ready to let go yet…"

"No one can expect you to be. It wouldn't be called loss if it happened when we were ready to let go. Trust me, lethallan," Apparently the shared presence of grief, no matter how different, gives Seren reason to use the pronoun reserved for familiarity. "No one can expect you to let go before you are ready. You're the only one who can decide that. And you will have tears for as much as you have loss to grieve. You don't have a reason to apologize to me. Offering support to grief is no inconvenience."

Sniffing against the runny nose, Maceyana looks to him then, studying his face now that he is as close as he is. Hand lifting to touch fingertips to his cheek, though they never quite make it, stopping in mid motion, it has been a long time since she reached out to touch another being besides Mor and the uncertainty has her hand dropping back to her lap. "You will have to tell me about you, Seren." said softly another soft breath pulled in. "But as you have said, I have not been well and I think perhaps I should rest."

Seren nods, though it could be in agreement to anything. He stands, offering a hand without demanding. "Revas will stay nearby. Even if I didn't ask her to, she would. Tell her, and I will come offer you what help I can. Perhaps tomorrow will be a little easier." No promises that sleep will make anything better, that's just not the way he works.

Maceyana's gaze follows him as he stands, then drops to his hand as it's held out. There is hesitation, uncertainty, it is easily read but in the end her small fingers curl around his own as she lets him help her to her feet. Looking up him, there is a nod. "Perhaps. We will see when the morning comes." letting go of his hand to reach up and pull her hood back over her pale head. "Dareth shiral, Seren."


Any additional notes fall to the bottom.