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I had the most intense dream. The vividness that lingers in my veins makes me wonder if it were a vision, but it’s hard to say. I was playing my Lyro Blade for the masses on the aircraft (I’ll mention it later, I must first get the dream written). Kimaris, Bordel, Aragoth, and Daevri were all eating at a table, my cards from games earlier accompanying them. I had decided to sing a ballad of a Half-Orc, Champion of Pelor, when everything about me seemed to surge. Like, the energies were whisking me away to some far off land.
Once I was able to gain my bearings, I found that I was in a wasteland- no... it was more plains like, but the atmosphere was dark and dull. I could sense a great war taking place which made me feel all sorts of uncomfortable.
As I looked about, a cry rang out and I saw a dark figure assaulting a woman. It wasn’t just a strike with the hand. The silhouetted man proceeded to have his way with her. I can’t say if it was the woman who continued to scream or that of my own voice. Like a coward, I ran. There was nothing I could do to help her...
My flight was short come as another figure caught my attention. She was commanding in appearance. Her face was painted white, markings along her cheeks and eyes. The dress was like nothing I had seen before that magnified the warrioress she was. A golden headdress adorned her crown and for the briefest of moments I forgot the threat behind me.
I then remembered her. She was me- the Primordial of Balance, at least in a previous life. I was mesmerized by her as she walked past. I doubt she ever saw me.
Rora- the warrioress, walked straight over to the man, killing him and the woman with two swift motions from her fans. Sorrow for the victim escaped me, wondering why she had to die. It was short lived as my eyes beheld four red orbs in the sky and Rora heading up a hill.
Despite her brutality, I picked myself up and followed after. I felt safe with her and surely I might gain wisdom if I kept with. As we walked, a laughter echoed across the landscape. It was lilt and childlike and chilled my bones. I looked about, but saw nothing. In fact, when I returned my attention to Rora, she was no longer leading me. The warrioress had disappeared all together.
I continued to walk up the hill toward the lights. As I drew nigh, I felt weights in my hands. I looked to them and found the metal fans Rora wielded clenched in my fists. Then the green robes that were wrapped about her frame, billowed in the breeze about my legs. It took but a moment to realize, though I suspect I always was, that I was Rora.
As I walked on, a calm encased me. The two folk I had murdered was necessary. The man for his vile actions and the woman so she wouldn’t have to live on with the scars. I could feel the weight she carried in making that decision, yet at the same time there wasn’t any guilt. It was a duty to uphold.
At the top of the hill I saw Bordel, Kimaris, Aragoth, and Daevri, but they too were past manifestations of their Primordial cycle. The Dragonborn, who was a Goliath at the time, beckoned to us to which we all placed a hand on a large stone. Then there’s glimpses of the great Dragon, Io, charging into battle followed by a man with bright red hair reading a book. It was the history of the world, Bordel having observed it and declaring it was accurate.
Then I snapped back to reality, the final chords of the song being plucked incoherently. Some folk applauded and I shook my head feeling embarrassed. I then switched to my other lyre, not quite sure what I had done.
I don’t know why I continued to play for everyone. By the time I decided to finish, I found the Galley empty except for Bordel.
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I think I’ve warmed up to Bordel again. As I wrote in his quiet company, he began to make small chat about my journal and what I write. I felt nervous, knowing what I’ve written about him, but stated I wrote about the going ons of the day, whatever stood out and seemed important. He then asked if my mother was in there. I chuckled a little, confirming she was. The Cleric then surprised me and apologized for snapping at me the other day when I had seemingly foiled our plans to obtain the journals. I felt bashful and brushed it off saying that it was partly my fault for not communicating better. But I certainly feel much better in his good graces.
Something interesting is Bordel can’t write. I take my skill in that for granted. I tend to assume everyone can. I offered to teach him, but he declined. Then I found out he has no family. I didn’t press about it. The topic only came up when I mentioned I’d help write any letters home. It’s perplexing he has no wife or children back home for his character is so inviting.
Then again maybe they are dead... Or the fact he was the executioner. Maybe that position hindered him. I know if I was still a functioning member of my family, that arrangement wouldn’t hold well with my mother. Thankfully I don’t have to worry about status when it comes to marriage, just my own happiness. Ha! The thought of a wedding sounds so foreign now. I doubt that is part of my Primordial agenda.
Speaking of my supremeness, I mentioned to Bordel the dream I had. He said he had one too of a similar fashion. I pulled the Lyro Blade out and examined it for auras as the Cleric wondered how the dream was brought about. Bahamut’s gift held no magical effects, which left me equally confused.
Bordel eventually got up to leave, I asking him which room Kimaris took. He teased me by saying, “I thought you were sharing with Aragoth?” I told him I wasn’t. I’m not sure what to think about the Dragonborn. He’s a thief and a brute. I don’t feel comfortable being alone behind closed doors with him yet.
More seriously, Bordel mentioned that Kimaris didn’t take a room and that I was welcome to share his. I accepted the invite saying I’d come down after I finished writing.
With that, I suppose it would make better sense for me to jot how I even managed to be aboard an airship! But first, everything leading up to it after I had written this morning:
After journaling and writing the letter to Achmath, I had grabbed my pack to go to market and get a new dress. I’ve mentioned the feathers growing, but I’m starting to notice more nubs running along my arms and I have no choice but to find an outfit to accommodate the feathers. I haven’t a clue what people will think. Aside from being less modest, will people assume I’m part Aarakocra?
With my nerves already set with saying goodbye to Achmath and my changes, they were only added upon as I picked my pack up. It was unbelievably heavy! And guess what was inside! The stolen goods! Or at least some of them. I dare not ask where the rest went, but with what I had, I was intent on returning them and sparing the shop some of their loss.
I mentioned to Kimaris, who still was sitting with Daevri, that I was headed to market as I passed through the common room. Once outside, I nearly bumped into Bordel as I lugged the pack along. He was kind and offered to carry it. With enthusiasm I passed the load to him. I then made mention of the items inside and how I was off to return them. He even suggested that I get a top fit for my feathers, as I itched.
It was rather embarrassing. I say, I don’t know how birds handle it. Ever so often I had to stop and lean against the wall of a building to get a decent scratch. I thought about asking Bordel, but the idea sounded awkward. Perhaps Kimaris will lend a hand later.
As we slowly made way to the blacksmith I was certain the armor and weapons were from, Bordel and I met up with Aragoth. It was there that it dawned on me that the Dragonborn was a Primordial. I have yet to ask the Cleric about it, but I don’t understand how it was possible. Yet there’s a part of me that seems to know that he’s been one all along, especially considering that vision I had. And the same thing happened with Daevri; he’s one of us (though he was equally surprised, as I was, by his new found power... which may not be a good thing for him)!
Anyways, Aragoth was not happy by the idea of returning the goods. They were to help us save the world according to him. Bordel debated with him, trying to bring reason about how we can’t just take as we please because of our power. Just because we’re to save everyone doesn’t mean to cheat the others of their livelihood. Yet the Dragonborn would counter with, “But does their livelihood matter if the world ends because we were not well equipped?” It was rather comical how he thought we were going about saving the world. Granted, the forces we were taking on to secure the cups might prove threatening, but with two of the ten secured in Bahamut's vaults, I seriously doubt the world is at threat.
The Cleric thought a long moment and replied, “I suppose I play chess differently than you,” to which the debating continued. I, however, marched off toward the blacksmith, who was berating his help something terrible.
“Excuse me,” I began. The man recognized me, calling me by my formal name. I then presented the stolen items explaining that I had woken with them in my belongings and knowing me, I certainly have no need of them. He thanked me for the return, though was disappointed that only a portion had been salvaged. Bordel then joined me and handed the blacksmith a platinum piece to cover the rest. I thought that quite generous considering Aragoth and Daevri were the culprits that put him out of pocket.
After finding a dress fitting for my changes, the three of us returned to the Inn for lunch. There, Bordel asked the others what he asked me while out at market, “What do you think of flying?” I had chuckled considering the feathers I was growing and mentioned that it was something I had yet to do. The Cleric then said that he had a surprise for me. So after everyone else gave their input, no one being opposed to the idea, He mentioned how there was an aircraft that he’s established passage for all of us on.
“Where are we taking the aircraft to?” Kimaris asked. It was a big reminder that Bordel and I hadn’t told the others about what had happened last night at the dinner party! So quickly I relayed that we had a likely source to a cup on Mythus island- but we ought to ask around the docks to see if any of the workers or sailors have heard about it.
Kimaris asked what route the aircraft would take. Bordel said it was heading north before going east. The boy then mentioned that he had been summoned by his Master. Something in his eyes suggested it was what we ought to do first, the volcano cup likely safe as it were for a more convenient time.
With that decision made, we all went down to the aircraft to inquire if we would be able to be dropped off close to Kimaris’s home. As we walked, I did my best to ask some of the folk around the dock about Mythus, but so far no one seems to have heard of such a rumor about a volcano’s treasure.
Then my attention turned to the aircraft. It was quite amazing! The ship must have been something established within the past two years because I never saw it in my time growing up in Ruebis. It held a resemblance to the ships ported, but lacking the sails.
We were greeted by a Half Orc named Blacmeg. He was courteous and said that they would be stopping at a town near the monastery Kimaris is from. We were then lead to the barracks where we were able to secure three rooms.
I had assumed I would be bunking with Kimaris. Daevri, however, asked if I would want to join with him. I rolled my eyes and jokingly stated, “I’d rather room with the Dragonborn than you.” No sooner had I said it, Aragoth was all, “Sure!” and threw me over his shoulders! I can’t tell you how panicked I felt. He slammed the door behind him and set me down. He then flopped on the bed and muttered something about how they were never big enough for him. I laughed nervously and excused myself.
Before I left, he did make mention that he wouldn’t ever hurt me. I smiled cordially and slipped out the door. The others had a good laugh over it. I then in full blush made my way up top to have a good looking over of the ship before making my way down into the Galley to entertain with cards and music.
And on that note, I am off to bed!
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I feel rather lousy now. I went to say goodnight to Kimaris and found him sitting at the helm of the ship, the starry night above us. He was rather standoffish with me, not wanting to talk much. Then I remembered Achmath. So I told him how it was stupid of me to have reacted in such a manner. I should have known better. Still, he denied any conversation until I asked what was going on in his head.
“This...heartbreak... how does anyone deal with it?” Kimaris asked. I couldn’t help but feel bad. I knew what he felt... but there was nothing I could do. I was the source of his pain. Still, like I would my siblings when they hurt, I pulled Kimaris in for a hug. He didn’t fight it and we continued to go on about the uncertainties and unfairness that seemed rife the past week.
I suspect a lot of what the boy is going through has to deal with how he’s gotten younger. Prepubescent and having to deal with whatever feelings he has for me and being a Primordial- the latter getting to me nearly a week ago.
It’s hard to believe I once loathed Kimaris. Now I pity him. If I had the power to, I’d make him nineteen again... yet, if I did would we go back to fighting like cats and dogs? I just wish I didn’t feel so guilty for not feeling the same way. There was a moment I think I saw it, but now... he’s no longer an adult, well at least he doesn’t look it. I guess that bodes the question: If he was an adult, but looked like a child, would I date him anyways? Yet, what would society think? What would I think?
It feels heartless to deny him the chance just because of his child like stature... but I can’t... I just can’t.
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