So anybody who knows me, knows that concepts and questions keep swarming my head for a long time before I make up my mind about a topic.. and sometimes I never make up my mind at all.
In this particular case:
A while ago, I told people that I work 32 hrs a week. And I was told “pah, 32 hrs? That’s part-time! You should try to work my hrs! Come back when you’ve put in the 72 hrs I put in per week!”
It’s been lingering on my mind for a while, that someone should boast about them working so much more than I and even talk me down on it. It made me wonder about the differences in culture between there and here, because frankly; I know some people who work a lot… but I also know a lot of people who, like me, work to live and not live to work.
In the same conversation came up the “oh you just live with a roommate don’t you?” question. Living the way we do, is not being married, hence it’s being degraded to living roommate style. Where as, by dutch laws, we are truly to be considered the same as being married. Except; we skipped the ceremonial part, and just went for the contract. In the Netherlands there are many options of living together with someone, bypassing the institution of marriage. There is absolutely no other reason, really, to be married here unless you -want- it.
What -grates- me about those 2 comments…, is that these are not one-time instances. I meet a whole lot of people coming from self proclaimed “free” countries (not only US, in case anyone was feeling targeted) who do not count themselves lucky enough to have these freedoms.. working that much and living with another person under the same roof with the same benefits and responsibilities as if you were married, apparently is not an option to other people who also proclaim to be free.
I don’t get it. It makes me wonder what “freedom” truly is. To me; it’s being able to travel wherever I like, being able to pay my half of all expenses to the home we bought (sometimes I make more, sometimes he makes more, but we share 50/50%), and to be able to make a conscious choice to work for a living, and not live for my work. Freedom for me is being able and allowed to make personal, conscious choices and NOT be judged for them. I truly think that here, in the NL, I can do whatever the fuck I like, provided it’s sane and doesn’t hurt anyone..
I’m aware that I am spoiled. Which makes it only so much more interesting to hear other opinions, so here we go:
What is freedom to you? How do you define it? How free do you think you are, and how happy are you with that freedom?
So, two days ago, I finally came across the right moment to test an old-wives cure I stumbled upon years ago; Using plants to get rid of nettle burns.
Summers are a great time to get yourself a nice nettle burn. Very nasty, but there is a -very- easy and -working- cure to deal with this, growing right underneath the nettle plant.
Look at enclosed picture. Underneath the nettle plant (the sharp, edgy and nasty looking one) there are little plants growing (Greater Plantain or Grote Weegbree), more or less resembling of the spikes of a wheel with small round-ish leaves and without hard hooks. As soon as you feel the sting; pluck these, rub them over your nettle burns and keep rubbing until the burn is gone. Make sure you “break” the leaves, because it’s the plant juices that you need.
After a few minutes, you’ll be good as new. No more need for expensive medicines, sprays, lotions, or what you have.
How cool is that? :)
#MH17 | Mij niet gezien
Het enige wat ik zeker weet, is dat ik niets met zekerheid weet. En ik denk dat meer mensen dit moesten toegeven.
De propaganda motoren staan rood gloeiend en de publieke opinie woekert naar nieuwe hoogten. Men schreeuwt om genoegdoening; men wil resultaten zien! En wel nu!
Rutte uitgemaakt voor laffe zwabber en Putin is een klootzak. Alles gaat verkeerd en fout; niets gaat zoals het zou moeten gaan volgens ons, wij die staan op onze walletjes. Stuurlui.. gevoerd door de media.
Ach ja, de Media. Als geschifte zeemeeuwen, luid opgeschrokken door gebeurtenis X, duiken ze massaal voor dat ene stukje friet uit die hele grote puntzak patatje oorlog.
Mijn enige hoop op eerlijke informatie is getuigenverklaringen via twitter. Maar die lees ik niet. Want daar word ik ook maar depressief van.
Het is chaos; dat moge duidelijk zijn.
Even vanuit mij even grote woorden meer. Natuurlijk; ik mag boos zijn. Ik mag eisen. Ik mag willen. Begrijp me niet verkeerd; ik denk zelfs bijna dat ik dat ook een beetje moet. Maar Ik vind het zo duaal.
Enerzijds moeten we boos zijn, uit principe, want stil zwijgen is toestemmen. Echter wat weet ik nu helemaal over dit alles, dat ik me denk te kunnen permitteren boos te zijn? Ik ken de feiten niet.
Eigenlijk ben ik ben alleen maar blij dat hier achter mijn bureautje zit. Het is veilig op misschien wat neerslag vanmiddag na. Hoewel zelfs dat niet zeker is. Maar ach, voor mij de simpele ziel, is dat nog wel te overzien.
Ever since then and now, much happened. Once Ardaion had reached Cear, things had become an absolute rollercoaster of happenings, unlike he’d ever experienced before. And at times it was very hard to fathom just how much his situation had changed. From leaving his families’ Mansion on Iryrod and loosing Sovan, to owning his own home at the docks in Cear with Reina; he couldn’t quite grasp it just yet. Every so often he’d wake up restless in the middle of the night, only to remind himself to where he currently was. Then he’d slide closer to the tiny female whom always seemed to be sound asleep at those moments. She wouldn’t wake. Nothing could quite break her away from her so beloved sleep, especially not when the hour was this early. Not that he’d try to wake her up; rather she was dreaming of all the things that would become them, than spend the hours awake next to him wondering why he was still so haunted.
He knew that she knew. Occasionally she would ask him about his past and he would drop tiny tidbits of information. Not enough to completely still her hunger, but enough to keep her fed for at least a while. To him, it felt like it shouldn’t matter anymore. And in a way, it really didn’t; after all this was an entirely new life and it hadn’t been difficult to accept it all. But in the quiet moments, when nobody was around, he would still be feeling the tingles of doubt, whistful longing back to ages where everything seemed so much less complicated. Ages in which he’d just been his fathers’ son and the heir to the Aeramin family fortunes. The young man who’d grow up to wed Sovan to whom he was promised at birth. The lavishly spoilt son to his mother, who’d relentlessly teach him all about etiquette, morals and ethics, until he would finally understand the fine jist of it.
Those were times of strict discipline and many lessons in a day. He’d read, write, study and fight, until it was time to turn in at night whilst the adults would recline and entertain themselves with intelligent reads or pretty games.
Today, this seemed like a million years ago. He had so much more to consider now and at times it made him long for a bit more of his mothers’ guidance and advise, or his fathers’ calm hand to reassure him. He had been taught so much, but he never could have expected just how much he’d come to rely on his lessons. These days were chaotic; the rules were different and the games were conveniently changed to their benefits, instead of his own. And he had troubles figuring it all out all by himself.
Ardaion slowly slipped out of bed and rearranged the sheets a bit so Reina would benefit most of their warmth. He dressed up, made his way to their kitchen, with their kitchenequipment, their watertap and their diningtable. He sat down on one of their chairs and had a close look around the room filled with their tapestries, their curtains, their paintings, their cabinets and their shelves. He knew the rollercoaster wasn’t going to stop anytime soon and he wondered if it all wasn’t going a few knots too fast.
He knew he’d found Reina at the right moment and that she’d be a proper, wonderful wife in time. He truly had grown to love her and had his mind set on devoting the rest of his life to making sure he’d be the husband she needed him to be. He’d make her a proper, decent Aeramin woman and she’d give him a son. Despite the relatively short time they’d been together, these agreements had already been made. But also, they had agreed they would take it slow and do things when they came naturally to them.. Naturally.., yet here they were so soon; living in the home Daniel provided for them. As a young, beginning family.
Ardaion struggled some bread down and washed it away with water, merely to have his stomach filled at the start of day. Then he moved back into the bedroom and opened the blinds. He wasn’t trying to make a sound, but the creeking of wood being shoved over wood couldn’t be prevented. As soon the first Rellian Ray peeked through, it created a miraculously perfect view of what he thought was going to be a lovely future. Reina murmured in her slow wake, fluttered open her eyes and threw him a questioning look.
“‘daion, come back to bed.. You don’t have to go, 2 days, remember? Come back, keep me warm.”
The evening that followed up on Reina’s confessions began on a slightly more awkward note. He’d made his way quietly towards the Mistyvale, still pensive about the conversation. But he’d decided he wasn’t going to dwell on it much longer; patience and time was all he needed to receive answers. Rhauth would show him signs when he was ready for it.
When he walked up to the Mistyvale, he noticed the small gathering of people and how faces were anything but what he would like to see most. People seemed to dwell about for a reason, but without purpose or satisfaction. Idle talk and superficial smiles were exchanged but there were hardly any connections made. Or that was at least how it had appeared to him.
There were all the ingredients for a small party; a boy, a man and two women. And it was nowhere stated in the books that a Brother of the Trident couldn’t have any fun so he was quite delighted when the Nature Woman responded to his call for shaking up things a bit. Inside, outside, some talking back and forth about where to go and what to do, until they decided that outside it was. A good, warm night under a starlit field of dark blue was exactly what he had been looking forward too. And all seemed to agree, save for the boy. Ardaion had been startled at first. The darkness that was woven into the boys’ aura was simply grim and immediately Ardaion had felt that cry that he’d encountered with so many children at the temple. But he knew nothing about this boy. The Nature Woman spoke with the boy; something with stones and balance. A bit out there, but it had seemed to work as the boy took the stones she offered to him. Then beautiful Thirianna spoke with the boy. She persuaded him to come see her kitten Fluffles at her room in the Mistyvale. Like any child would have done the boy had followed her with curiosity and Ardaion had listened and learned.
Hours passed and their small gathering moved to the Nature Woman’s camp outside the gates. A brief greeting and introduction was rapidly followed up by a political discussion that slightly drew the other woman, Leena, out of her shell. But ever so doubtful and ready to slide back whenever. Studying her patiently Ardaion took notes of her appearance and presence, her body language. If only adults were as easy to read as children.
Unfortunately, things turned awkward rather quickly. Political discussions still seemed to separate even the smallest gatherings. Disappointed Ardaion settled the realization that this night very well could have been over. A last, rather bold, compliment was made to the ladies but to no avail. Politics and war, draining people to their core; there was a hint of devastation and failure within him.
When it was about time to break up camp, the Nature Woman’s wolf picked up on something. And she asked Ardaion to go and have a look what it could be.
Behind the rocks nearby he’d found the little boy again, wanting to be part of the crowd, but not feeling part of the crowd. Now Ardaion knew what to do. Patiently he acted upon what he had learned, lessons from Iryrod and lessons from the mountains; basic rules of simply gaining trust and comfort.
Derek was the boys’ name, and he appeared to be a very unfortunate soul. A lost boy, from what Ardaion assumed to be a very broken home, who liked kittens and pretty stones. Though possibly the stones were only for staying alive whilst out on the streets. Deep within this darkness though, there was someone screaming simply for recognition; a child that needed to be seen.
Suddenly all the things Reina had told him earlier didn’t matter much anymore. There was nothing ever going to be more rewarding than seeing this boy flourish and blossom despite a tormented past. Perhaps, if Ardaion would just..
“Drum sound rises on the air, its throb, my heart. A voice inside the beat says, “I know you’re tired, but come. This is the way.”
From the book of Rhauth, chapter 4 verse 7. As documented by the Brotherhood of the Trident.
That night when all had gone to bed at the temple candlelight still burned over one desk. Ardaion sat quietly bent over a thick tome reading; soaking up knowledge passed on by generations past. Or at least he was having a fair attempt trying. His thoughts weren’t where they should be at all. The events of the day still lay too fresh on his mind. Pensively he sat back in his chair, the dim light flickering over and past his features, lighting the wall behind him. His cowl was drawn up high but his mood was running fairly low. His thoughts went over how he saw and reconnected with Reina.
She’d told him that she thought they had never been good as a couple. That had felt as a tiny, little, painful poke at the heart. He’d been aware back then that she wanted him home or to simply to be around for her more often but he hadn’t quite caught on to the fact that she actually thought they were a bad match. And he realized he had missed all the signs. It was that realization that stung. When he heard her talk about Amelia’s child, it stung too. Her words brought him back to this particular time when a child knocked on the door Reina and he made safe. He’d played with the child and Reina had been terrified of the thought of him wanting them to have children of their own. And to see her warming up now felt as if then they had been all in a wrong time and a wrong place. Perhaps they’d been too young and he’d been too foolish. Whatever it had been though, it was too late now to do anything about it. They’d gone too far, things changed too much. But somewhere deep inside, he couldn’t help lamenting this loss.
If he had listened and given her what she desired of him, he would have had a chance to a family of his own. He never would have travelled that mountain pass and he wouldn’t have fallen to that avalanche. He wouldn’t have spent months recovering in a monastery and he wouldn’t have been stationed in this temple. He wouldn’t have spoken his vows and he wouldn’t have taken the oath. He could have been a husband and a father, providing for his own children and his beautiful, talented wife. Something he had desired for a very long time.
But perhaps, he wondered, he never would have found this peace. This infinite sense of purpose and direction that made him feel whole. He wondered if he would have found the same satisfaction. Maybe, or maybe not. He smiled wryly; life sure had a wicked way of dealing the cards for those who didn’t know how to play by the rules.
It wasn’t so much that he was hurt. It wasn’t really either that he’d been pained when she’d looked him in the eyes and told him that he’d been replaced by his mate, his former lieutenant. It just had been weird to return to so much sadness and grief. He’d expected -some- sadness and grief, but not the sort he was met with. Perhaps he’d also not expected that life had rolled on so swiftly; in his own perception things hadn’t gone by this fast. But they did. And that was tricky to comprehend, but alright.
Ardaion had been wandering the streets of Cear. Not entirely sure if he should intrude in the home that they so gladly built many moons ago. Perhaps she still lived there. Or perhaps she’d moved out and moved on. As it turned out, he learned that she cleared the place of all their belongings. And her heart of what drove her to fill that house with him. And now that he knew that nothing was really waiting for him anymore, he decided he wouldn’t bother going to the house they bought at all. He held on to the key; perhaps he could put down a bedroll or something, so he’d have a place for quiet and peace, solemn retreat and prayers. Perhaps, one day. But not right now.
So many things that didn’t quite connect just yet in his mind; he was eager for more information. What else had happened? Had people just moved on, stages through life so quickly passed through? Would Amy have had her baby by now? Where was Orion? How were the Blades, and was there still space for him? How was –Daniel-? He’d have to catch up with Daniel to make sure the man would understand that it was all as it should be. That he could never give Reina what Daniel would be able to give and that he hoped that Daniel would understand what treasure had been given to him. And that Ardaion would support them, both.
Reina’s teary eyes, shaken posture and apologetic behavior, had been quite ironic to him. Oh, if only she knew now what the costs were to this new life he’d been given and what promises he’d made in service to Rhauth. She wouldn’t have been so sad. She would have been shocked perhaps, and would have appreciated the irony he saw now. He’d prepared having to tell her that he could never really come back. Not as they were. In a way he’d been quite happy to find out that actually; life had fixed that issue for him already. Maybe he’d still explain to her one day. But not right now.
He’d not have to face explaining his actions. Everything was as it should be, and as far as he was concerned there was nothing but clear water surrounding him. The air felt nice and smooth, sudden warm breezes would catch him off guard and paint a smile on his face. Nothing of his old life would shackle him again without his own permission. No pain, no tears, no love, only the warmth that filled his heart in knowing that he wouldn’t have to live up to any expectations anymore, save for the expectations of his lord and master.
Contemplating where to go next and what to do, he considered finding something to eat. A quiet gaze was cast towards the Buck Inn, after which he decided to meet his destined beloved at the waterfront. He strode out to watch the sun set. Maybe he could find Gabriel or Thirianna today. He’d appreciated learning about these valiant companions and so far they’d indicated interest in his presence. Perhaps he could assist them again and learn more.
Looking back now, I don’t have any regrets. Which is a good thing since this is one of those moments where the worst thing would be to have many. I have done what was needed and I have gone out to redeem what I did wrong. I’ve hurt and I’ve been hurt but I made amends, picked myself up and I lived again. I’ve lived and loved and left. I shouldn’t have left.
However it is though; I’m glad I never knew which way the road ahead would take me. It’s led me down a path of many miraculous discoveries. I’ve met many people and have seen many places. I’ve fought alongside many brave soldiers and I’ve kissed… I’ve kissed only two but they were all that I needed; the only women that ever would be for me. I’m so sorry Reina that these words straight from my heart will probably never reach you. But I think it’s nearly time to go back to where I’ve come from. I’ll be alright; Sovan will be there and she will watch over us both, you and me. She will make sure that I can remain for you. I’ll be with you Reina. I have faith. Rauths’ waves never falter and I am but an extension of his holy waters.
There’s no pain, no grief, no anger where I’m going. And harsh as that pending truth may be, it is something that I actually long for as I’m finding myself in a rather uncompromising position. I’ve been stuck for too long, I haven’t felt my hands or feet in a while and I’m starting to loose hearing and sight. I don’t think that there’s a way out other than crossing over, to escape this hellish, cold landscape.
Days and nights have passed by ever since I made my fall and now I’m still falling even though my body is still. But I feel as if I’m reaching the end of it. I don’t know what will happen in the coming hours, days. There’s a hope inside of me and I think it’s trying to reassure me; tell me that everything will be alright. But I’m gradually beginning to suspect it’s merely my conscience playing me for a fool. I’m beginning to think that this is where I’ll die. In these wide, majestic mountains; buried below rocks and snow. At least my soul will be able to pass over. Rauth keep me safe.
Another week passed, one following up the other without much change, challenge or distraction. Weeks, into months, into as far as time went back in this place high atop this mountain.
Prayers, solitude and grace lay in these walls and it’d come to dictate the pace of time. There were moments of prayer in the morning, at noon, at dinner and in the evening. And then in between were regular chores, done by all who found themselves in this sacred place. Cooking, gardening and there were the scriptures that needed working on. This is what Ardaion had been doing most. Copying endless texts with quill and ink until his tongue was black and his hands were sore. One would get used to it eventually and as long as he felt he couldn’t make the journey back down the trail, he didn’t mind. He found out that with strengthening soul and spirit, came also the patience to sit and be calm. Finally, he was able to have patience and sit still.
Ardaion’s recovery hadn’t been easy. As far as he understood, he’d fallen victim to an avalanche a while ago. He’d been under for days but was recovered by a troupe of travelling monks, hailing from this monastery up here in these mountains. Though he couldn’t have possibly foreseen his desperate rescue it so happened fate had decided that this avalanche was on a regular trade route between this monastery and small settlements down in the valley. Ardaion believed that it had only been by the grace of Rhauth that he was found and returned to life.
Between the moment he woke up still wrapped in bandages and littered with reminders of his fall and now, the monks had kindly yet persistently taught him grace. They’d stood through his narcissistic, egotistical wails, his complaints of injustice and the idea that it could still be weeks, months, before he’d be able to perform any duty again on his old stations. They’d kept him in place, at ease, unable to disagree with their everlasting patience. Slowly but surely, he’d begun to understand their awe-inspiring display of eternal peace and inner strength. And slowly but surely, he also understood how this accident had changed his life forever more.
Tomorrow would be the confirmation of this changed life. He’d choose complete and utter devotion to Rhauth, merely serving as a humble servant, without distractions or doubt. If only by the grace of Rhauth he’d been kept alive, than all he could do was pay back that debt. And then maybe someday soon, he’d have the opportunity to return to Caer and make this second chance worth Rhauth’s while.
“Please, Sovan, don’t. Please come.. It’s not too late, you don’-..” a youngster was abruptly silenced by his beloved. Her hands slid into his and their bodies met in what he feared was going to be the last time. The young Iyrodian knew she wasn’t going to change her mind. “Sovan..” he whispered against her lips. She wasn’t going to follow him. And he suspected that without her he would not see another sun rise in this life.
“Don’t cry..” her sweet voice was still bright and clear, high above the sound of the Call. “Don’t mourn, my Light. We have lived and loved. And you will live even longer after this, so you can keep me alive. I can’t leave.. You know that..”
He felt the skin on her hands becoming fragile and thin. Her vibrant brown eyes began to loose their life. The curls enlisting her face rolled flat and grew thin. It became prevalent she’d made her choice and her future was determined.
When he opened his eyes, his heart felt heavy in an otherwise empty chest. Before him stood an old woman where his beloved once was, a woman who now merely seemed familiar. Even in her old age she was the most beautiful, precious thing he’d ever seen. “Sovan.. I’ve loved you. I would have loved you so much more and so much longer.” A cold, crooked finger on his lips told him he’d have to say no more. “As I have loved you, Ardaion.. Don’t forget me. Now, start running… Heed the Call, for me.”
He dragged his eyes away from her. He felt nauseous, rendered stuck to the grounds, bound by his roots, as if the forest itself was protesting. But he knew that time was running out. He had no choice in hearing, adhering the Call; that malevolent sound that drew him away from her. He dreaded the thought of having to begin this journey without her. “Ardaion. You must go. Turn the page and begin anew.” Her pressing whispers seemed softer. Or was it the Call becoming louder?
“Never forget Arda-…” He could see her lips move, but the sound was no longer audible to him. He’d also made a choice and his was one to live. He would forever more live to keep her spirit alive. Because she had not been able to save herself, he would. He let go of her hands, biting back his tormented self. He untangled the roots that had been reaching for his deepest, darkest feelings. When he felt ready, he allowed the Call to draw him home. He looked at what once used to be and turned around to begin his journey away from where he’d been born and raised. And he started running, towards where his future was about to start.
His arrival to Rian, after many weeks, months of traveling, was everything but what he’d expected. Even though he’d heard the Call, there were no welcoming faces or kind hands to haul him in. Already at the furthest border outside Rian he’d felt the innate dislike towards his arrival. So he understood that it was true what he had learned about the Forests of Rian; they held no warmth in their hearts for his kind. He forced further his heavy boots to seek what had called him home, but he would find no refuge. And all the while, in the back of his mind, he still heard Sovan’s voice. Her kind, sweet voice seemed so distant, like it had been a thousand years before when they’d said their goodbye’s. And he slowly began to wonder if he had done the right thing. Perhaps he should’ve stayed back there. Perhaps he should’ve recognized then that he belonged no other place. He began to doubt why he’d ever made the choice that drove him to Rian. Without her, everlasting life seemed dull and hardly worth living.
Whilst he kept those boots trotting forth, he felt how his heart fell in a perpetual state of mourning. He was moving forward, but he no longer knew where to go. The Call had subsided as now he was in Rian. He’d saved himself, but what about his life..
For a couple of weeks Ardaion spent time traveling through the most glorious of forests, but he didn’t see much of it. When he entered the Naithe, Capital of Bliss and Beauty, he found nothing but darkness clouding his mind. Truly, he was mourning and he didn’t quite know how to deal with it. He could look up and gaze upon the sacred hollows in majestic trees, but he couldn’t smell the salty air of home. He would see his beautiful kindred, gracious elves going about their business as if they were floating on air, but he missed the rolling hills and rocks of his island. He heard chattering birds of all sorts, but nowhere would he see seagulls. And wherever he looked, to him nothing could resemble the beauty that grew old in his embrace.
So he left Rian. And he set out to find another place. Perhaps if he were to find another harbor city, he could close the gap left in his being.
“Dear Sovan, my beloved..
Words cannot begin to describe the hollowness in the heart that guides my thoughts onto this parchment. It has been several moons now, ever since we parted. And I miss you. My journey is not turning out to be as effortless as the Call may have led me to believe; sometimes I begin to wonder about what it would have been like if I had not made the choice that pushed you away from me.
My boots become heavier with every step I take further away from you. And though I try to live and love, continue as you would have wanted it for me, the sensation of being broken without you is beginning to shadow over my entire world. I am not well… But I try to find comfort in the thought that what we once had will never die. As certain as Rauth will continue to wash the shores, ridding them of impurities, I will never forget. You were my first, my last and everything.
Would it be that a wish could make my choice undone, I would wish it a thousand times over and more. And we would have grown old together and died in eachothers presence… Alas, it now appears this was not meant to be for this life. I lament.
When I left Iryrod, I once more gazed upon our beautiful Iwinya Thond, believing you would be there at the shores to send me away into safe travels. At first I arrived in Arkáng, a small harbour city. From there I was graciously taken in by a traveling band of nomads going into my direction; the direction I kept hearing this unfortunate Call. It must have been weeks we traveled and all the while I said nothing, could do nothing. Silence was my companion, as I simply had little left to say. When the Call led me in a different direction than the travelers could go, I moved further alone. And I found Rian.
My beloved, you have once asked me to write you and let you know about Rian, describe it to you. I can tell you now that Rian is nothing like anything we ever knew. There are no rolling hills, no rocky fields or stone slabbed beaches. It lies hidden, with trees so high they completely shadow the noble woods from the relentless attacks of Rel the Destructor. And Rauth.., He has no claim here. There are no seas, no big lakes, no water, save for silver lines cutting through thick matrasses of what seems to be ages old growth. Iaosia marvelously keeps watch over this safe Haven; it is quite clear to see why our cousins continue to speak of their fondness of home..
The Naithe.. The Naithe is a Miracle on its own. Beautiful, elegant and majestic; much like our own estates in a way. Our lineage remains clear. And if it hadn’t be for Sára Taurë, it all would have seemed perfect. Or maybe this is what made it seem so perfect; the reminder of how important it is that these woods are preserved, so we can remain forever living.
Oh Sovan, if only I could have lived this ill begotten eternity with you. How I would have wished you could have been there with me. I feel I have not seen half the pleasures I could have seen. If only I would have had your eyes with me so I could gaze at the reflections of these pleasures in your endless grey depths. If only I would have had you with me, could have smelled the seas in your hair and the winds through your dark hair. Perhaps then I could have felt at home.
I have left Rian again. I traveled the seas, walked the plains and strode through forests; nowhere I find rest. I have fought under many banners, but no banner seems to be raised for a cause worth fighting for. Wherever I try to settle, I can never stay as most places just seem to far away from home. I now aim to settle in Cear. Perhaps if I once more allow the seas to call me to a place they consider home, I can feel it too. Perhaps then I can hear your voice on the waves, calling for me. Perhaps then I can find another, new reason, to continue and live.. because for now this seems a wish from you to me, leaving me.., no torturing me in longing for what seem to be ungraspable distances in a journey that never ends.
My Light, I long for you and your embrace. If I could, I would find solution in Rauth’s embrace.. but I know the promise I made and intend to keep. In my heart, you are forever.
Yours into Eternity,
In this particular light she wasn’t too terrible to look at. Some women were like that; they needed some sort of special light to bring out the best-.. the nicer things in them. As long as she kept her mouth shut, you didn’t even have to notice the smell or the sight of her dreadfully disgusting mouth and teeth either. In a way, when you were able to look through all the dirt and grime of her life, she could be considered pretty. But only in this light; Rel was towering high over the human woman sitting opposed to Ardaion, alongside the river that ran behind the Inn at Two Bridges. Only in this light, or obviously, in complete darkness.
“So-.., I’m glad your mother approved that we could speak in private. How have you been?” Leavinia shifted where she was seated, gave him a supposedly sultry smile and winked. “Momma know ya ain’t se bad now, Priest. Ya been ‘elpin’ us out, stuck te ya word.” Full but cracked lips pursed together in what Ardaion only could assume to be gleeful, content smile. She looked down at the fishnet in her hands. Ardaion looked down at the fishnet too and reached over to another end of it to help her fixing the knots.
“Mm. Are you coping?” Ardaion frowned as a particularly damaged knot passed through his fingers. He tugged the rope to straighten it out and reached over to cut off some new rope to replace the damaged length. Better fix this before it broke beyond repair.
“Well, Priest, it dunna gun’ be long now.. ‘e’ll be arrivin’ soon na? Week or three, two eh..” She smacked her lips and spat into the river. “Ya know what ya want ya son te be called then?” His son. An icy cold bolt shot down the elf’s spine. “Well, not son. But you know that.” He looked up at her and cocked a brow. She looked at him surprised. “Well ‘e’s ya son, ya ain’t gun’ deny that now, are ya.” Ardaion considered. Shook his head and continued fixing the knot in his hands. Storms in glasses of water; he didn’t need her riled up against him. It would be best to keep these impulsive thoughts quiet; she would not understand. She was not Thirianna.
“No-..” he responded calmly, keeping his sight cast down. “No, I will not. But I do expect us to stick to our agreements. Stick to those, and I will keep providing for you and-.. him.” She tilted her head to the side and leaned back, supporting the weight of her ballooned belly on her hands. She reminded him of a big, fat fish. Bloated, unclean and unattractive until gutted properly and prepared finely on a plate. Gutted? Where did that thought come from? The fish seemed pleased to hear him once again confirm their agreement.
“So? I were thinkin’ of Geoff, or Baor, after me ol’ man. Ye thinkin’ that’d be a good name, fer a half-elfin of ya line?” There she went ahead and did it again. Ardaion winced, knowing there wouldn’t be an end to this. A mother’s pride knew no boundaries and apparently that pride was high enough to not let him hear the end of it, despite his rather obvious discomfort. Forgive me father, I never meant for this to happen.
“Yes-..” he responded again. He nodded simply; that was all he could muster. This terrible doom looming over his world had him at a loss for words. How was he going to keep her quiet after the child was born? How was he going to keep this hidden for the rest of the world?
Talk about having skeletons in your closet; Quinn had no idea what she was asking after when she inquired about his demons, the night before. And the longer he kept it hidden, the heavier the burden became. No way out though. No way out.