OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Three

[brave_kreyu]

The lost city is carved into stone, even into the earth itself in places. A small oasis remains, and that's where Kreyu lands in her dragon shape, Skellig on her back.

An entire PRIDE of lions was asleep here, this place a den, but Kreyu's arrival sends them all fleeing in terror. THEY know who the most terrible predator in the area is quite well, thank you!

"A bit of luck. Nothing too big should be here, if they had made this place a den." They won't be back while they can still smell her scent.

Comments

[27_53]

Skellig's feathers are still bristled, the scent of the lions (predators) prevalent in his senses, despite the fact that they fled at the sight of her arrival. He will still be on guard.

He hops to the ground, their bags in hand - already looking for her kilt to hand it over once she shifts back to 'her' form.

"They will be wise to avoid it, until we have left."

[brave_kreyu]

"Oh indeed," Kreyu drawls.

"Thank you, love," she wraps her kilt back around her waist. "The entrance SHOULD be cut into the rock face over there," she points to the rocky overhang the lions fled from.

The overhang REEKS of lion, but the stone there was clearly carved by human hands, leading into a room cut out of the rock. The images that were once painted on the walls here are long faded, fractured pieces of bright colors with little meaning. But it must have been grand, in its day, with high vaulted ceilings.

There are echoes here, although the people are long gone. The city did not die of violence, or plague. The death was slow, gradual, as the water in the reservoir declined. Skellig can catch snatches of their whispers as they left, their grief, their hope for a new home elsewhere.

[27_53]

The overwhelming scent of lion causes his wings to flare somewhat aggressively as they make their way past the overhang, though it is mostly an involuntary reaction to very large predator cat. (Part of his mind senses a wave of vague familiarity running between the threads, but he ignores it for the time being - this is not the time or space to contemplate such things.)

And then once they are in the room, he is hit with the echoes and it causes him to stop in his tracks, reaching to steady himself with a hand against the wall.

Skellig huffs a breath, a shaky exhale, and notes the concern on her features when she turns sharply to glance at him.

"It is just...loud." He motions with one hand towards the vaulted ceilings, the glimpses of a once-vivid space. It is silent except for their footsteps and their breath, but he knows she will understand just 'what' is loud. "I just need to adjust to compensate...my ears."

[brave_kreyu]

"Take all the time you need, love."

Kreyu prowls the room, looking for a way further in or further down. She finds a boulder blocking a mostly hidden doorway.

She grunts, not entirely surprised. She reaches out with her senses, to try and see where she can roll it so it is out of the way. She prods the boulder experimentally, tests its mass.

[27_53]

Once he has settled, he turns his attention to the boulder she has focused on.

"Do dragons lay traps, to guard their wealth?" He is already moving closer, keeping an eye on the stone beneath his feet, looking for any hidden triggers. "Or is it more often that a dragon is here to protect their hoard?"

That is a heavy rock. Not one that he could easily 'lighten', either. The whale was different (because it was living - or had been, at least) but this is another obstacle entirely.

[brave_kreyu]

"Some do," she admits. "In a brood of dragons, someone is usually near the hoard to guard it. Revenen is guarding ours right now."

She pokes the boulder some more. "Heka has no broodmates, and this was a bolt hole for him, not his main lair. He wouldn't have been here often, to keep traps maintained, to renew spells. He was counting on it being hidden and out of the way, I suspect. But, best to be careful."

Kreyu braces her feet and HEAVES will all the strength this shape can muster, and the boulder slides just enough for them to squeeze past it. She's panting heavily, heart fast, from the exertion.

[27_53]

Squeezing through a gap is tricky enough, but adding in wings to the equation adds an extra layer of 'interesting'.

"Careful is good," he mutters, once they are within the corridor past the boulder. Skellig allows his hand to fall to the center of her back, resting his palm flat against her spine - transferring a gentle, unspoken push of energy towards her, to settle her lungs, calm her muscles, ease her heartbeat.

It is narrow and dark ahead of them, dimly lit. Skellig snaps his fingers in an effort to bring a spark to them, but is unsuccessful. (It only sometimes works.) "Need to practice that," he grumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

[brave_kreyu]

She leans into his touch, grateful for the energy. "Thank you."

She smiles reassuringly. "I'll give us some light." She sings a series of syllables that makes a ball of light form in the air, hovering.

The wall paintings here are preserved, out of the sun and the weather. Brilliant colors painted onto stone, scenes of what must have been daily life, symbols of the sun, the moon, the stars.

She moves forward, slowly, careful, senses alert for trouble.

[27_53]

Typically, he would not let her lead - but she has a better sense of what exactly they might be looking for - and this way he can listen for anything that might attempt to sneak up on them from behind.

His eyes wander across the walls as they are lit by the hovering ball of light, committing the images to his memory. There is a sadness in his chest, even if this city did not die of violence or trauma, but simple change, it was still great and worthy of being remembered.

Not lost.

He shakes his head to refocus, turning his attention back to her form a step ahead of him.

[brave_kreyu]

"We will remember," she tells him. "And perhaps carry tales of this place to others, that it is not lost again."

They spiral down deeper into the rock, passing through streets carved into rock, homes, shops. There are no words written anywhere that he can see, but the walls are brightly painted. The places that seem to have been shops are decorated with paintings of what merchandise they once offered.

They pass by what was once a sculptor's shop, and something hidden among the debris catches his senses. It's a small statue carved from the stone that makes up the city, a figurine of an owl that's mostly finished, except for one of the owl's talons. It's small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Was it a practice piece for something larger? Something meant to adorn a memorial? It's hard to say.

[27_53]

Whatever it is, he finds himself drawn closely to it, and takes the time to fetch it from the pile of debris, wandering briefly away from her - she is also wandering, checking other shops and doorways.

It is a small owl.

A tight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, as he mutters a silent thank you to wherever it may have come from before he rejoins the direction she is headed with the figure tucked neatly away into a pocket of his pack.

There is a set of openings ahead of them, beside each other. Nearly identical. And he has no intention of splitting up.

"Where calls you stronger?

[brave_kreyu]

"Left," she decides after a moment.

The passages beyond the opening on the left are grander, more ornately decorated. Designs carved into the rock as well as painted.

The street dead ends in what MUST be a palace from its size and ornateness. It would have taken AGES to carve so much of the stone, such complex patterns, scenes of battles, gods, and monsters. Here and there, gold leaf glitters on the stone carvings like highlights.

"Heka's ego is big enough that he would DEFINITELY put his treasures in the most ornate spot down here," Kreyu states, staring up at the palace.

[27_53]

Kreyu may have seen such a building as this before, such ornate carving and complex artworks surrounding them - but Skellig has never seen such a thing, and he is clearly taken aback by the grandeur of the space, the palace in front of them.

For a long moment, he is simply speechless.

When he does find words, it takes a moment.

"I...I would say I believe we have found the correct place," he says softly, still awed. And still on edge, for if they have arrived here, there may still be wards or spells, even if Heka has only recently died. Skellig reaches for her hand, as they walk towards the palace itself.

(Does one simply walk through the front door? He doesn't know - this is all new to him...)

[brave_kreyu]

She smiles softly at his awe. "It is a wonder," she says. "Hidden here, beneath the ground. The kings must have been wealthy, powerful, secure, to have built such as this."

She holds his hand as they approach a massive doorway. The great bronze doors that stood there for countless centuries are torn from their places, torn by something Kreyu's size with dreadful claws. The scenes shaped into the bronze of the door all feature a particular dragon, their scales coated in gold leaf, their eyes polished emeralds. The dragon's image has been defaced, over and over again, by those same claws.

[27_53]

"I have not sensed anything of that size within this space," he offers as a reassurance, though it is clear that he knows he is out of his league when it comes to Things With Dreadful Claws. Perhaps he is reassuring himself, more than he is reassuring her? "But I realize there is magic here that I do not understand fully."

Translation: I do not want either of us to end up a snack.

There is a definite edge to his mood as they walk through the doorway, a wariness and caution to his senses - but he trusts her.

"Have you art like this, of your form?"

[brave_kreyu]

"Heka's claws, I think," she says, staring at the door. "That spot there, where the claws aren't quite aligned properly, his are like that. I got to see more of them than I cared to."

"There is some, near our lair," Kreyu admits, flushing. "Our humans, they worship us as gods. Worship me as a goddess of magic, of healing." For all that Kreyu is not comfortable with her own divinity, that 'our' is still there. "When I was there last, there was an image of me with scales of obsidian and amethyst eyes."

[27_53]

"I have been called an angel," he says, shrugging one shoulder (one wing). "Mostly by those who I have helped. Though there have been a few other instances. But religion is...complicated."

There is still a haze that clouds his memories, but he can hear some of the voices in his head, echoing. Angel of mercy, angel of death, not an angel but a demon, maybe just a beast? He doubts there is artwork as fine as this to show his form.

(But somewhere out there, in some space and time, there is a child's scrawled drawing in colored pencil, a man with wings.)

"I take it amethyst is purple," he says, questioning. "I know of obsidian."

[brave_kreyu]

"Angel, I haven't heard that word before," Kreyu muses. "It is complicated, very much so." She shoves her own complicated thoughts aside for a moment.

"It is purple, although the shade of purple varies widely."

They pass into a grand entrance hall, the walls adorned with scenes of lion hunts, battles between armies, great masses of peoples bearing gifts, tribute, to a man seated on a throne. She turns away sharply from an image of a man on a throne with throngs of people genuflecting before him.

"You could say that Revenen and I had a fight about religion, right before I left," she offers, voice quiet. "He meant well, I think. My brothers do not share my appetite for sex, but they knew that it was something I craved, that I wanted. That I was unhappy."

She looks away from Skellig for a moment. "He suggested that I let my hunger be known to our humans, that there would be no shortage of men eager to please their goddess. That they might injure one another competing for the privilege, even." Her face and her energy reflect the revulsion, the disgust, the horror, that the idea of taking partners in this way prompts in her.

[27_53]

"You deserve to be happy," he says simply. "And if the act of sex is something that you desire, then it is something you should feel no shame in seeking. It is not fair to judge one for merely desiring pleasure."

His attitude is blunt, matter of fact.

"I will admit that my own appetite for sex, prior to finding myself here...was less." He glances towards her. "But that is more due to the fact that I have had to spend my time hiding my true form away from any partner I have had. You are the first who has truly seen me for...me."

However, it is obvious that he agrees with her feelings.

"But you are not a...conquest, or a trophy to be won."

[brave_kreyu]

"No, I am not," she agrees. "And what we have, it has satisfied far more than my body." She squeezes his hand gently.

"I would see you truly as often and in as many ways as you desire," she tells him. "Would treasure every facet of your being that you care to share with me."

By chance, they have stopped in front of a wall painting of a king, holding the hands of a woman equally splendid. The artist has captured love and longing in their faces.

[27_53]

"I am very grateful for your acceptance," he replies honestly. "It has healed my heart in ways that I cannot truly even explain."

He studies the painting of the king and the woman - Skellig supposes it is the image of his queen, whom clearly was adored and treasured deeply.

"I know the look in his eyes," he comments. "It is the same way that I feel when I gaze upon you."

[brave_kreyu]

"I'm glad," she says, smiling softly.

She flushes in pleasure when he says that he knows the look in the king's eyes. "And I you. I hope they left here safely, together."

Instinct sends her left again, past rooms that might have held servants or supplies. The less glamorous underpinnings of the palace that made the place run.

Something prickles across her skin, like an electric charge, and she stops. "A ward here, failing but not entirely gone. Will take me a while to disassemble it." It is a sign that they are probably on the right track.

The rooms are simpler here, the designs on the walls simpler, less maintained. He'll find a few treasures, if he pokes his nose into rooms as she works. A flute carved from a heron's wing bone sits abandoned on a shelf in one room. In another room, a cracked pot, delicately painted with lotus flowers in a blue glaze sits in a corner. In the smallest room, a tiny wheeled cart and horse made of pottery, the paint worn, scuffed, a well loved toy of some child of long ago.

[27_53]

While she works on disassembling the ward, he does indeed wander off on his own - staying within earshot should she speak, but with the quiet her voice would carry regardless of his hypersensitive hearing being turned 'up' as it is - to explore the nearby rooms.

It is the mundane that interests him the most. These were the things that were used, by those that were considered 'lesser' in the eyes of society. These are the things (and the beings) that he connects with easier. (Less chatter in the echo.) Her light spell only carries so far, but with his eyes it is simple enough to see what he needs to.

(Most items he takes note of but he leaves where they rest without touch, not wanting to disturb them (or their echoes) and leave evidence of his being in the room. But the child's horse and cart is wrapped carefully in a piece of linen, and placed beside the tiny carved owl.)

It is clear that those in this city had time to prepare for their exodus. This is not a rush-job, no panic. But he knows the pain that comes with having to leave one's nest, and it is not an easy feeling to deal with.

He is clearly a bit bothered as he wanders back out to check on how she's coming with the ward, his jaw set firm as he goes back to looking at the designs on the walls as she continues to work.

[brave_kreyu]

The ward gives way with a snapping sound not long after he reaches her again. She smiles brightly, pulls him into a hug.

"Heka was good, but I'm better," she tells him, slightly smug.

Kreyu can feel an echo in the air. "There's an area with enhanced karma close by, I would bet that's where he put his treasures."

[27_53]

His mood brightens slightly when she pulls him into the hug, her smug attitude giving him a boost.

"You are a far greater mage than most I have known," he says. "I am not surprised to know you are better than he was."

With her able to sense the karma (this he has not yet fully tuned into), he steps aside to let her lead on past the ward and towards the 'treasures'.