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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Jun 6, 2017 16:30:10 GMT
The temple was a different place when nobody was inside. Cherche idly walked through the grand entrance doors, the orange of fading sunset peeking in from behind her, and seeping in through the windows, making the grand building of stone and wood glow like a warm fire. She was glad to see nobody here; it was always wonderful to have some time to oneself, even for someone who enjoyed socializing as much as Cherche.
Her boots shuffled on carved stone as the hunched leviathan made her way past rows of beautiful seating areas, carved by earth magi. She smiled; the priests were taking wonderful care of the temple, though could she really expect any less from Althea and Kaveri? They were devout and kind and cared for their goddess as much as she did.
Statues of the goddess were front and center against the wall where the seats faced; five in total, one for each depiction of Arithelia as a mother of the different elements. Various offerings lay in front of each.
She shuffled past the main altar where the priests would speak and bless the magi of Haven, stopping in front of the main incense burner. There was a place for sticks, and a pot underneath for burning more natural scents; she tossed a handful of a few of her and Moira’s favorite leaves and spices, then set them to a low burn inside the burner. Gentle smoke poured from the many holes on the sides of the sphere, and soon the area was filled with a delightful scent. To many, it would smell like an aromatic pie being baked on the shore of a sea. To Cherche… it smelled like home.
She walked to the nearest seat and slowly sat her old bones down with a grunt. While she enjoyed the services held with all of her people, her children… she savored this more private time, where she could be with her thoughts and relax her mind, where she could pray and remember at her own pace. She closed her eyes, focused on her breathing, and enjoyed the moment before saying her prayers. Idly, she found herself humming a familiar hymn, a prayer song composed by her dear friend, Sombra Avia, a savant taken before her time. Cherche's old voice still had power behind it, and the gentle hum filled the temple with its soft, smooth sound.
Or, that was the plan, anyway. She wasn’t the only one who found her way to the main room of the grand temple.
414 WORDS ● @ open ● Open to Magi. Sombra Avia is Cadence's deceased mother, fun fact |
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Post by Jason Reed on Jun 8, 2017 21:54:20 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
The Great Temple.
How many times had Jason found himself within the wall of this majestic building? More times than he could recount in a short while, he mused. Each time he’d passed beyond the massive gate would be followed by prayers to the Mother of Magi for forgiveness and guidance—forgiveness for the disobedience he’d shown taking lives in anger and guidance on how he might better himself in her eyes. Though there had been many times that his faith had been test, belief and simple bull-headedness ensured that Jason continued in his weekly visits to his patron’s sole remaining temple. Even then, the small shrine he maintained in his grotto was adequate to offer his prays.
A long shadow cast by the setting sun heralded his arrival as he gently pushed the great doors open and disappeared as the doors slowly groaned shut. The temple courtyard was still—almost eerily so—but the tranquility was peaceful in its own way. Jason’s tail swished contently as he strode purposefully through the temple. His boots scarcely made a sound as strode purposefully across the courtyard towards the central shrine.
A scent akin to a baking pie met Jason long before he’d reached the shrines entrance. He paused before the doors and closed his eyes, appreciating the homely aroma. It was oddly reminiscent of the spices his mother would burn during prayers; it reminded him of home, of better times. There were few things in life he would’ve traded for the
bittersweet feelings it brought him.
The moment of calm eventually passed and Jason’s eyes opened as he pushed into the temple. A familiar tune found its way to his ear. The hymn had been one that would often touch his own lips during his own prayers and he once more closed his eyes, briefly bowing his head in reverence before closing the doors behind him.
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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Jun 9, 2017 14:51:13 GMT
While she hummed, she said mental prayers. She begged for strength from Arithelia, as she always did, to help both the goddess and her children find their way in this world. She knew the goddess was fallen; She had spent time among the priests and monks, Kaveri most of all. This, however, only redoubled her faith- She had been there for the magi for countless centuries, and it was time now to be there for Her, in Her time of greatest need. Faith… Faith was the key.
The door closing registered in her mind, though she was so lost in her hymn and thoughts that it felt almost distant. She finished off the verse and gently turned to the unexpected visitor. He was a hulking and quiet man- only one person matched that description, and it brought a wide smile to the old woman’s face.
“Jason Reed, is that you, my dear?” She called out, standing from her seat with a short grunt. “It feels like it has been ages since I had last seen you! Are you well?”
She walked towards the hulking figure with her languid pace, smiling the whole way. The hermit, the monk, the faithful man who she had spoken to many times… it was so nice to see him! She would reach up to put her hands on the side of his head (hoping he would lean down to get closer to her height…) and give him a kiss on each of his cheeks, followed up with a tight hug.
“I did not expect anyone at the temple at this hour, though I must say this is a pleasant surprise.” She dropped from her tip toes back to her hunched position, and led the man towards where she was sitting. She inhaled deeply and exhaled with a pleased sigh. “It is a wonderful smell, is it not? Ah, it reminds me of Moira, Tatara guide her soul. Please, sit with me. We can say our prayers together, my child.”
Once at the seat, whether he followed or not, she would sit down slowly, giving the quiet man a chance to make his own inquiries of her, if he chose.
364 WORDS ● Jason Reed ● Hush none of that it is a good reply. I assumed they knew each other. If not, i will rewrite |
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Post by Jason Reed on Jun 15, 2017 1:27:48 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
A small crack appeared in Jason’s stony demeanor upon sighting his elder sibling. The white line of a smile appeared upon his face as Cherche approached him. “It has certainly been a long time, Sister of the Sea. The earth continues to guide me straight and true, and that is all that one can ask in this day and age of ours.” He bent at the waist once he saw the woman reaching for his face as not to cause her to strain overly much and waited without complaint as she planted a kiss on either cheek. The gesture brought yet another grin to his face. He remembered how Cherche had helped calm the roiling storm of emotion and heal the pain of losing his family; it was a pain that the two of them shared if he remembered correctly.
“Nor did I, dear sister. I find that it is far more peaceful when the temple is free of the bustle of others. Still, I can’t say that I’m not pleased by your presence.” If anything, he was ecstatic to see his old friend looking so well. “You chose the combination well. I might have mistaken this for a home had I not known any better.” Jason bowed his head at the mention of his friend’s lost wife and the blessing that followed. It sometimes amazed him that such a fragile looking woman could come through that level of loss and remain strong, but he knew better than most that suffering could forge a stronger person.
“I would love to join you, my friend,” Jason said. He followed in the old leviathan’s wake and sat next to her on the bench. “How fare’s Haven? Are our brothers and sisters making due with what the gods and the forest provides?”
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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Jun 15, 2017 15:55:19 GMT
She hummed a short, happy laugh at the towering man. “You are always such a polite young man, Jason. I wish you would visit more often; it does this old heart great joy to hear your voice.” She waved her hand as soon as the words left her mouth. “Oh, but I know you must go where the earth takes you, as I do with the seas. Still, perhaps it wouldn’t mind guiding you to my house for some tea one day.”
She walked with him back towards the front and chuckled yet again. “You would not have been mistaken, my brother. To me, it is home. It is a careful mixture of mine and Moira’s favorite scents.” She sighed once at the mention of her late wife; it was a happy sigh, one woven from fond memories rather than sorrow. “Home, after all, is not a place. It is a feeling.” She turned to him with a wrinkled smile. “I believe you understand that better than most.”
She took her seat with a short grunt and pat the bench next to her. “Oh, my dear, we are doing more than making due. Every day, new faces show up to Haven, and with each our community grows stronger.” She turned to watch the smoke pour from the hanging incense burner. It flowed up like water, bending in a short dance before dispersing into the air of the temple. Ah, it was a relaxing sight. “Nature provides. We are safe, we are fed, and we have each other. Truly, what more could one ask for in this world?”
Her smaller, scaled hand reached over and wrapped around however much of Jason’s massive palm she could manage. It was simply nice to be able to have contact with another, and while Jason enjoyed his nomadic life, it was never easy to go too long without contact from another.
“And how are you, my dear? You look well; I trust that nature provides for you as well as it does for us? Did you come to the Renewal festival? I’m afraid I was far too busy with temple duties to go out and about.”
361 WORDS ● Jason Reed ● I love that the head priestess is so informal compared to him |
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Post by Jason Reed on Jun 29, 2017 21:29:14 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
Jason smiled again. “Perhaps I could persuade Mother Earth to guide my steps to your door at some point. I doubt that she would mind the delay it would result in a cup of your tea.” He turned to watch the smoke swirling gently into the air. The scent made the space feel even more homely than it already was for him. After all, it had become something of a home to him when he chose to leave his grotto for a few hours.
“I suppose that I do, sister,” Jason agreed. “It would be a task worthy to enter the annul of legend to find another such place for me.” He listened quietly for a time as Cherche told him of how their brothers and sister had been doing. Their family in Haven was growing and they remained safely hidden from the prying eyes of those that would wish them harm; what’s more is that they were thriving despite all the obstacles set before them. They were strong, stronger perhaps than they had been in decades if not centuries. “That news helps to ease my mind, my sister. Our people are recovering and I know that the Great Mother would be pleased to know her children are safer now than we have been.”
His eyes fell to where the old leviathan had grip his hand with her own; it seems so small against the backdrop of his. Jason’s tail tapped out a steady rhythm on the seat beneath him as he thought. “I’m as well as can be expected given the life that I lead. Mother Earth provides what I need to carry on.” He thought back to the festival and nodded. “I was there, yes. I met with an old friend that I’d not seen in many years. It was nice. Perhaps one day I will introduce the two of you. I traveled with her for some time before everything changed.”
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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Jul 7, 2017 17:52:01 GMT
She chuckled. “Tell her I would be grateful. In the meantime, I will try to water some more plants than usual, hm? A favor for a favor.”
She nodded to him in solemn understanding. When she finished her initial exposition, her smiling face faded. She sighed as Jason spoke, a crooked half-smile returning to her lips. “We are doing better now than we have in the last century, that is true,” she said. She watched the smoke as the words left her; so much of what she was about to say reminded her of Moira. Painful memories. Moments she wished none other would have to experience. “It is not all sunshine and flourishing, unfortunately. We are safe from the outside, but that is not what concerns me. Kingsley’s movement is picking up momentum, and I fear the worst, Jason. Such ideals being fed to the excitable youth and wounded old… I have seen it before.” She turned her head and looked in his eyes for a moment, before returning to watch the dancing smoke. “I fear many of them will fight, and not return. I will do what I am able to maintain peace from within Haven, but… ah, don’t mind me. Just the worries of an old woman. Things are well at the moment, and I plan to keep it that way.”
Still… the waters were restless lately. She could not help but get the feeling that something was looming on the horizon.
She drew herself from such worries when her hand found Jason’s. Her smile was back in earnest as she listened to the man, glad to find him as well as ever. And he even came to the festival! How wonderful. “Ah, such reunions are always a delight. Any friend of yours is one of mine; I would be happy to meet her. If the timing permits, do not be afraid to bring her along for tea; I always have enough.”
The mention of travel dampened her mood once more, though not as low as it had at the talk of Haven. “Speaking of travel… how is She, Jason? Do you two lack for anything? Has there been trouble?”
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Post by Jason Reed on Jul 25, 2017 1:31:45 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
“I’m sure that She would be most appreciative of the gesture, my sister,” Jason said, smiling. The smile morphed into a far more somber expression. Kingsley. The Magi Liberation Movement. They were something of a sore subject for him. He’d purposefully kept himself distant from the world at large, but even then, he still heard rumors of the movement and its activities. Overall, Kingsley and his followers were in pursuit of a noble goal, but their methods were . . . disturbingly misguided.
The thing’s he’d heard in his travels…
“Kingsley is merely doing what his beliefs show him to be correct. Our people need protection from those that would wish us harm, but I cannot bring myself to accept the means by which they seek to accomplish this. Violence and hatred in response to what we face will only breed more of the same. It is a vicious cycle that will bring ruin to all mortals.” Jason drew upon his gifts and withdrew his prayer beads from his jacket pocket, setting them into a slow orbit around just above his open palm. He watched the rotation for several moments as he gathered his thoughts. “I learned that lesson once, and I do not wish to see others learn it once more. There has been enough suffering.”
He was glad for the change of topic when it came. It evoked memories that carried a far more pleasant taste. “I’m sure that she would enjoy the meeting and your tea. You always have a way of relaxing the body and soul with those witch’s brews of yours.”
The good-natured jest didn’t have quite enough time to breed a smile once Cherche asked her next question. “Our mother is strong; stronger than any of us. She is as the hymns and old tales say. The elements leap to follow Her command and there is little that She cannot accomplish, but…” Jason looked at his friend, concern etched deep into his features. “… She is not invincible. Frailty strikes at her body more often that I would like and there is rarely anything that I can do anything to remedy it. Worse, is Her bullheaded refusal to accept that she must eat now.”
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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Jul 26, 2017 18:09:37 GMT
If Jason still had a free hand while focusing on his prayer beads, Cherche would continue to hold it; otherwise she would put her scaled hand on the man’s massive shoulder. She closed her eyes and nodded solemnly.
“It eases my mind to hear that come from you, Jason; oftentimes I wonder if my own judgement is clouded when it comes to him,” she said. “I understand his grief; Serena was my sister, and I miss her terribly. He has been permanently wounded by monsters who think themselves superior, and yet… we all bear our scars. I do not wish to see more inflicted upon our people.”
She watched the rotation of the prayer beads as her mind wandered. Jason agreed with her, albeit for different reasons; Jason was a true man of peace, one who wished to see the end to all suffering. To a degree, Cherche agreed, though she felt much less pity for humans; rather, she feared for the safety of Elijah and all of his followers. They needed to recover, not wound themselves further. As well, she knew she was above humans, and refused to make the same errors and impulsive actions that they had done so often in their history.
It was nice to have the conversation shift to less somber tones. She even gave the man a short laugh and playful slap on the shoulder. “Oh, a witch, am I? Well, I suppose I have been called worse,” she teased, giving the larger man a toothy smile. “My door is always open to you and your friends.”
She nodded along; as expected, it was rough going, but She endured. The old woman gave Jason a reassuring pat on his hand. “She will endure; you need not look so concerned. With your companionship, and the faith of our people, the goddess will recover.” She laughed once more. “Perhaps it is your cooking? Ah, but I’m kidding of course; I hope you can convince Her to accept it. See if you can simply ask of Her to try for the taste; if She finds food She can enjoy, I hope it will lead Her to view it as a treat, rather than a curse.”
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Post by Jason Reed on Aug 8, 2017 21:46:22 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
Jason looked to the hand resting on his own and the tender gesture went a long way toward easing the tension he felt rising in his chest. It didn’t disappear entirely, but he was noticeable calmer because of it. Cherche had been a friend of his for many years, often acting as a sort of mentor; her mere presence was often enough to bring him back from the brink.
A deep chuckle shook his shoulders.
“You are right, my friend,” Jason agreed. “All will be as the fates decree it will be, and I must allow it to run its course. Faith shall be my guide in this trial. Faith in our Mother, faith in our people, and faith in my own ability to carry out my mission.” He nodded along with his friend’s suggestion, chuckling again upon hearing the jab at his cooking. “I never was one for the culinary arts; fighting has ever been my personal forte, so the preparation of meals always fell to my dear Olivia.”
He sighed at the pleasant memories of his departed wife sprung to the forefront of his thoughts. Her meals had always been something he’d looked forward to enjoying when he returned home. She would’ve known a way to peak his patron’s interest in mortal delicacies; he desperately wished for her presence now, but it was not to be. She rejoined the Cycle many years ago and there was nothing he or any other mortal could do to change that.
“I will take that into consideration,” Jason continued. “Perhaps you could prepare something that will be to her liking?”
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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Aug 10, 2017 21:11:24 GMT
She laughed along with him. Fighting was his forte… it was strange. Cherche knew this of him, and yet it felt so foreign to imagine such a gentle man doing anything but gardening, watching sunsets, and playing with children. Perhaps the day would come that people like Jason would never have to fight, and could simply enjoy the pleasures of love and life to their fullest. It was dreams like that, and people like Jason, that gave the old Leviathan the strength to move forward each day.
She gave the larger man a wry look. “My dear, I am a mother, a grandmother, and an aunt; if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s cooking to appeal to young tastebuds.” She turned to watch the smoke dance and happily inhaled the scent that permeated the air. Funny enough, Moira was the pickiest one of the bunch, and the one with the sweetest tooth. She tapped her claw to her chin and hummed.
“Was there something at the festival She tried and enjoyed? That would be a nice start… Otherwise, I think I will try cooking more as I do for younger magi than I would for old fogeys like us. She may be a goddess, but in that form, I wonder if Her tastes match Her appearance?” She chuckled and smiled. “I will be sure to prepare some meals next time you are in Haven, and some for the road.”
She pat the larger man’s firm stomach. “And you, my dear; when was the last time you stayed long enough to have a proper meal?” She gave him a playful sigh and shake of her head. “Honestly! Do tell the earth that you need to eat, and see that it guides you back to Haven. You are always such pleasant company.”
And she worried about him out there. Not that he wasn’t a capable and happy man; she was just running low on close friends as the years went on, and the woods were only getting more dangerous. She tried not to let it show, but she caught herself staring just a moment too long.
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Post by Jason Reed on Aug 27, 2017 6:04:14 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
“How could I forget when you so consistently play the role of my own mother?” Jason joked. “I’d be impossible to deal with were it not for your efforts.” Another smile worked its way onto Jason’s features. Cherche had played a pivotal role in reshaping him from an intemperate youth into a patient man, and for that he was eternally grateful. Her guidance had helped him move beyond thoughts of revenge and needless bloodshed. His path might have been a different one had he not taken to visiting the Great Temple on a regular basis to speak with her.
A single laugh escaped from between his lips. “I think a better question would be what didn’t she enjoy. Our mother might appear to be nothing more than a child, but her appetite would suggest otherwise when she’s of a mood to eat. How she managed to tuck so much away is beyond my comprehension.” He chuckled as he turned to watch his granite bead in their orbit around their hands in the few moments before Cherche patted his stomach.
Jason turned back to the old Leviathan with a chuckle. “I’ll be sure to ask it of her, my friend. She is quite generous as it is, though I suspect that she’d be willing to allow a detour, especially if it leads me to your doorstep for a meal.” His expression sobered when he caught his friend’s eyes lingering on him. He took her hand firmly into his own and his tail came carefully to a rest on the woman’s shoulder, comforting in its presence.
“You needed worry yourself on my account, Cherche,” Jason said. “There is yet strength in this mortal form of mine, and I will see to it that nothing robs that strength.” He smiled. “Besides, I seem to have found myself in the company of a rather powerful goddess. I don’t believe that there will be much the two of us can’t handle ourselves.” Arithelia—regardless of her current state—was still a powerful being; Jason wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he could come close to matching her pure might and that alone was comforting to him.
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Post by Cherche Du Âme on Aug 31, 2017 21:16:36 GMT
She laughed, but there was happiness behind the sound beyond simply enjoying a back and forth with a friend. “You are a fine young man, Jason. Anyone would be proud to be your mother,” she said, her chest swelling with pride. The old magi loved being the motherly type, but Jason had a deeper connection with her. The time she spent guiding him to a gentler path and helping him find his way was of benefit to them both; together, they worked through their losses and supported each other when times were tough (and they often were, considering their losses). “I never had a son, but if I had, I would have wished for him to turn out as you did.”
The tender moment passed quickly as they moved on to discussions of food and the goddess. “Ha, did she? That makes this much easier then; I believe I will spend tomorrow afternoon swapping recipes and practicing in the kitchen. If we can get her to think of eating as a delight more than a curse, perhaps she will have an easier time during her stay with us on the mortal plane.”
She chuckled once more. “I will hold you to that, you know. My door is always open to you. Bring her by soon, if she will come; you can help me cook, and learn a thing or two!”
Despite Jason’s comforts, and the lightheartedness of their previous conversation, Cherche felt a grim weight on her chest. She bowed her head forward, as if in silent prayer, and was silent for a few moments. “I know you can,” she said. Slowly, she lifted her head, but kept her eyes focused on the dwindling wisps of smoke dancing in the area. “You are both capable and I have no doubt you will be safe. And yet I worry still.” Slowly she turned to him, her somber expression slowly twisting into a sly smirk. “Can you blame me? I am your mother, after all. It’s what we do best.”
338 WORDS ● Jason Reed ● Cupboard full of #1 Mom mugs |
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Post by Jason Reed on Oct 16, 2017 19:39:05 GMT
Blessed is Arithelia, Mother of Magi. Blessed is the Inner Flame, eternally bright and warm as the sun. Blessed is the Tranquil Sea, ever formless and shifting. Blessed is the Solid Earth, firm and unbroken. Blessed is the Mending Hand, gentle and generous.
-Jason Reed
“I suppose nothing I could possibly say would lay your fears to rest,” Jason said. “Though you should know that I am a hundred and forty six year old man, and I don’t exactly need your worry anymore. Probably…” Another wry grin—a vibrant white line against the backdrop of his mahogany skin—lite his features. The prayer beads spun to a stop and he manipulated the item until it wrapped easily around his wrist. He watched the last tendrils of smoke dance lazily towards the ceiling before the brazier’s contents were finally extinguished and the steady stream slowly dissipated.
Jason lowered his head and mouthed a final prayer thanking the gods for this moment of peace and reflection. The journey he’d undertaken left little time for either, so the opportunity was greatly appreciated. “I’ve been away from our mother’s side for too long now. I should return so that our wanderings may begin again.” Jason placed his hands on either side of Cherche’s face and gently pressed his forehead to hers. “Be well, my dearest mother, and know that your son will return to you as soon as he is able.”
With that last goodbye, Jason stood, bowed his head to the old Leviathan, and made his way to the exit. His tail swished to and fro catching on anything and everything, seemingly unwilling to allow his departure. Jason inwardly mirrored the sentiment, but his course was already set and he fought to reign the rebellious limb in. Stubborn will won out in the end and the barbed tail finally wrapped itself about his waist.
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