Snippets and Stories: (BP) Betwixt Two Seas
Zeal grunted as he reclined against the smooth damp stone on the beach, flecks of spume spraying over him despite having dragged himself far from the water's edge. Even one such as he would be fatigued by the series of back to back, consecutive dives.
His last dive bore nothing but disappointment. The Nakhreus Ring wasn't the only aquatic Circle amongst the Shols. But though Vye was convinced that a remnant of his Maritime kin had lain roots here, so far his dives had yet to bear fruit.
"The Nakre aren't the only Pelagic Shols, ocean dwellers such as the Lumineus and Khorr were once also commonplace in these parts. There are two other branches of major distinction amongst our aquatic kin of whom favor the briny depths. While those of the Nakre, particularly the Nakhreus Circle, are known for their naturally polished luster and iridescence, the Lumines branch is composed of several classes and their subdivisions of bioluminescent Shols. Most easily distinguished, for the characteristic twinkling light they emanated are the Celestial retinue of the abyssal depths.” Lockes paused in their lecture, “Are you familiar with the term, ‘the skies both above and below’?”
Zeal nodded in affirmation.
“Then you would know of its origin. It is not the blue that so colors the skies and seas both as many believe, though that lent no small amount of favor to the perpetuation of the myth. Given that these particular inhabitants favored the vast, lightless, depths of the oceanic gorge, and are disinclined to mingle or involve themselves with those beyond their domain, they are very rarely, if ever, encountered by those not of the Verdance. This phenomenon of seaborne stars went unexplained in fleshling lore, and from this were their nightly light show thus known as the “stars of the seas” by the seafarers of old. The archaic term and belief that there existed a "sky", same as the one above, that lay mirrored beneath the threshold of water’s surface.”
“Lastly, are the prismatic Coral Shols that in our tongue are known as the Khomure, of whom preferred the warmer and calmer waters of the protected shallows. Unsurprising, given that they inhabit the regions most frequented by the landlocked and other sentients perhaps, but amongst our Maritime brethren, they are perhaps the most fond and open to engaging landwalkers. Though they’ve a penchant for mischief like the rest of us, the Khorr actively seeking out those whom shared their tide pools and protecting and guiding the wayward seafarers. Lockes stared out over the great blue expanse of both sky and sea, “... If there is indeed someone still amidst the living then it is likely the former.”
Why, Lockes didn't tell, and needn’t elaborate. Some things are better left unsaid. “Let me make this clear. You are not diving to find the Circle of the Lumineus Shols. You will not find it. And if by some miracle you do, you will never reach it. Not alive anyhow.” the Northern Blue turned to the Seeker. “You are diving to search for the loose strands, the feelers of their web. From there, we will have our best chance to navigate our descent to the Ring. Oh. And one last thing.” Lockes held his gaze, voice firm, “Should you find one, do not follow, no matter how enticing they may appear. I wish you a safe return.”
His eyes slipped shut. Had it been a couple of cycles past, the command would’ve been a standalone statement. To the Alpione Shol, Zeal was, and is, a Reaper. Responsible for the horror and carnage their kind suffered. No amount of Time would change that. But Lockes had at long last begun to accept the Seeker. Not with obligation as before, but with Heart.
It showed in the things they said, and didn’t say.
It may not have seemed to be of much import, but the second warning and gentle concern revealed more than was let on.
Lockes did not speak unnecessarily. Before, the severed Shol would've stated a simple command, oft pertinent with Shol-kind and with explanations oft forsaken, to be disregarded at one’s own risk. And when probed for information, would state the fact of the matter. The “what” and “why” without censor. Blunt statements that in their objective truth, consumed them with guilt, and wrought naught but the same from Vye, having been the sole survivor in a deluge of blood, spared the brunt of the terror and mutilation of the Harvest Moon.
The Khomure Shols were closest to their fleshling companions, and were one of the first to go as a result. The fleshlings knew of their existence, so when the Plague manifested and fleshlings discovered the potency of a Shol’s nectar and flesh, they were harvested. Butchered and bled.
Though less affected, having been a Reaper and active for the entirety of the Harvest Moon, Zeal couldn’t claim to be completely unbothered. These were stories he knew well. Connections he should’ve been able to see. That given the circumstances, should’ve known better, but didn’t.
Because he couldn’t be bothered to care.
Little could hide the sheer loathing, nor the scathing accusations the severed Shol harbored. Though they both knew it unfair that they were projecting the entirety of the bloodshed upon him, but it did little to dull the anguish suffered merely by the painful reminder that came with the Seeker’s presence alone.
It seemed in those Times of the not-so-distant past, that the Bluepine almost desired his disobedience. For the karmic retribution of his ignorance, to their plight and kind, to come back to bite him.
A small hand on his, brought the Seeker's attention to his young charge. Concerned yet hopeful eyes searched his.
It was all for naught. But the Seeker clambered to his feet even before his breath had evened, and after a deep breath, dove in. The murky waters proved barren, the scintillating rainbow plethora of coral that had once covered the shallow sea bed now lay desolate and grey.
Over the shelf he went, and without hesitation, plunged deeper still to where the caverns lay just beneath the sheer bluff continental shelf. It was a terrifying experience, staring down the precipice into the gaping darkness, where shadows shifted, looming just out of sight.
In the inky depths there was nothing to occupy his senses, and he was left to his mind’s eye. And there he saw the shell-shocked despair that had so stricken the young Shol when Lockes had been struck down.
"Lockes!” Vye screamed, reaching out for the other Shol.
The desperation on the Bluepine’s face as they threw an arm out, “Vye! Get out of he—”
From the Bluepine’s midsection did a barbed blade surface, showering the snow with an icy blue spray.
"Lockes—” Sanguine eyes, widening, first in disbelief at what he was seeing, and then horror.
And Zeal felt it through his charge.
The slight quiver in Vye’s chest, tightening nauseatingly as they stumbled, paralyzed by an icy fear that saw more than the massive blade protruding from the older Shol.
There is no growing used to Heartache, it only ever grew heavier, eating away at the Heart with each loss, and made all the more painful by its familiarity. And in Vye’s frozen gaze, the Seeker saw the familiar sight. Saw Vye’s recognition.
A gurgling cough, and a splattering of more blue.
"Vye—run.”
Fear so raw that his Scythe pulsed at the sight of it. A strong, solid, hungering, beat that was almost as suffocating as the unadulterated fear that was drowning out all else. Carved deep into him through the massacre of the Harvest Moon past.
He shuddered, blood humming with anticipation. That moment was one he wouldn’t soon forget. It was in his blood.
Soon, he reached the depths where the gloom became impenetrable.
The Song of the Seas faded behind him, the reverberations of the waves dying down. It felt as if the entirety of his Life were being laid bare before him. There was no hiding from himself here, suspended in complete and utter darkness, exposed to the judgement of his own self. Nature is cold, apathetic there was no one, and nothing, to hide from. Nature cared not for such pointless things as his thoughts, or the airs the living put on. There was no one else. Just him.
The burn of his lungs snapped him from his reverie, and minutes later he surfaced, pulling himself tiredly up onto the beach before collapsing. Vye was by his side in an instance, patting him with cloth and tugging him towards their camp. It was too dark to make another dive.
They would try again tomorrow, but for now, a warm meal and fire called to him.
But even as he wolfed down the food, his attention was drawn to the seas. There was an almost hypnotic rhythm to the crashing waves. One that but grew louder the longer he listened, so much so that the seas seemed nigh humming.
"Do you hear that?"
He regretted it almost immediately, for Lockes stilled, and cocked their head listening to the stillness broken by naught but the waves. They shook their head, fronds swishing silently behind them, they flicked their unease as their wielder strained against the howling of the ebullient seas.
Vye had fallen into a different sort of silence. And at length, gave a single, tentative, dip of the head. Not for a lack of certainty, but for their company. The realization that dawned on Lockes and their overlong stare pulled uncomfortably at him, and he was awash with a fresh wave of guilt that emanated from Vye.
It was a bit ironic really, that the Reaper had gained what they had lost.
At first they had seethed, an undeserved gift. Why had he been able to connect with the Verdance? To be able to hear the Heart's Song, and Heart of all Life. Life which he had stolen and partaken of. Life that was not rightfully his to take. The immeasurable suffering, the hands that were drenched in blood, stained so deeply as the night itself. But at length, the dark Shol conceded. Perhaps this was for the best, that it was Zeal who had gained the ability to hear the Heart's Song. Mayhaps this would be the beginning as they slowly bridged the gap between their kind.
The severed Shol lowered their bowl, as did their eyes, "... Tell me what you hear."
Please.
It came out sounding far too desperate, and much like a plea for Zeal's taste. How they longed to feel the Life around them once more. To be able to be a part of the Verdance, and feel the presence of Life that was ever with them.
Though reluctant still, he spoke out of obligation. To what had once been, but now is lost. "The seas are… they roar with more than the breaking of the waves. An echo of sorts. Reverberating. Tumultuous, and full of sorrow.”
As if the ocean had become the embodiment of someone's lament.
A Heart, torn from the warmth of the sandy beds and dashed against the shore in endless waves, only to be swept out and lost forever at sea. Never to return, never to—
"... That the song echoes even now is promising. May it be of one that has yet to return to the Earth." Lockes sighed. The Alpione Shol stares wistfully out over the relentless waves. Would that the Heart's Song resonated within me still.
Whatever magic was woven by the Lumineus Shols, it would yield naught to outsiders, and at best difficult to unravel as a fellow child of the Verdance.
They would need more than just gills to reach the grotto.
Vye, though gifted in the arcane, was lacking. Not by any fault of his, simply that the advances artes of manipulation and the intricate weaves that were innately theirs to wield, would bear too much of a strain on his yet small body. He wasn’t ready for that kind of burden, not yet. Lockes on the other hand was too far from the Crier to branch into the Verdance, and could feel no more than the sparsest wisps of color. Navigating the intricate web of the Lumiens as things were, on top of sustaining the pressure, temperature, and air around them would potentially leave the severed Shol overextended. Should the Bluepine falter for even a moment, the pressure of the abyss would crush them all in an instant. It was far too risky, and the Northern Blue was not so conceited in their abilities as to place their companion’s lives on such a fine line. Besides, they were certain that regardless of who guided their treacherous descent, the final step of actually passing through the woven veil that shielded the Lumines Ring would require their intervention.
And that left but one other.
Lockes shot a furtive glance at the taciturn man sitting across from him, his half lidded eyes reflecting naught but the licking flames.
Not that Lockes didn’t have their reservations still, but as difficult as it was for the Bluepine themselves to swallow, they were growing fond of the Reaper. Perhaps they owed it to the ample stores of the Alpione Circle upon which they had imbibed and shared many a case over. The unexpectedly lively conversation, and the most passionate they had seen the aloof man. It had been… fun. Oddly enough. A strange concept given all that’s transpired. Given the sum of all that they were. Regardless, the Bluepine was coming to regard the future as hopeful, almost. A prospect both comforting and terrifying.
This one, Zeal. They were different. Be it by default or by design, the Seeker was connected to the Verdance, bolstering the aether available to him. But whereas Zeal’s strength lay in his greater stores and endurance to bear such high levels of aetherical conductivity, he lacked Vye’s finesse. The Seeker was progressing fast, for a stone-dweller.
But would it be enough? Those of molten blood struggled greatly with weaving. Even mastering a mere illusion or dreamscape, was a challenge for them, never mind the fine, ever shifting tendrils conjured by the meticulous hands of a seasoned Lumineus Shol.
And then there’s the matter of where Zeal’s true limits lay. He would likely find his plateau soon. While Zeal’s storage of aether is currently greater than Vye’s, it was an attribute of their different stages of growth more than anything else. Fleshlings have a significantly lower overall affinity and aetherical capacity, even in comparison with a Coty. At his best, Zeal was already ahead of the curve, but he may still not have enough.
… There was always the chance that Zeal was an anomaly. An outlier.
Such potential in Sol’s brood was scarce beyond words—but not unheard of.
And—Lockes gave him another sidelong glance—there was one other way.
A last resort.
Reapers were able to store vast amounts of aether, albeit temporarily, in their scythe. Enough to rival most Shols, if ever they were given the opportunity to consume such massive quantities.
His last dive bore nothing but disappointment. The Nakhreus Ring wasn't the only aquatic Circle amongst the Shols. But though Vye was convinced that a remnant of his Maritime kin had lain roots here, so far his dives had yet to bear fruit.
"The Nakre aren't the only Pelagic Shols, ocean dwellers such as the Lumineus and Khorr were once also commonplace in these parts. There are two other branches of major distinction amongst our aquatic kin of whom favor the briny depths. While those of the Nakre, particularly the Nakhreus Circle, are known for their naturally polished luster and iridescence, the Lumines branch is composed of several classes and their subdivisions of bioluminescent Shols. Most easily distinguished, for the characteristic twinkling light they emanated are the Celestial retinue of the abyssal depths.” Lockes paused in their lecture, “Are you familiar with the term, ‘the skies both above and below’?”
Zeal nodded in affirmation.
“Then you would know of its origin. It is not the blue that so colors the skies and seas both as many believe, though that lent no small amount of favor to the perpetuation of the myth. Given that these particular inhabitants favored the vast, lightless, depths of the oceanic gorge, and are disinclined to mingle or involve themselves with those beyond their domain, they are very rarely, if ever, encountered by those not of the Verdance. This phenomenon of seaborne stars went unexplained in fleshling lore, and from this were their nightly light show thus known as the “stars of the seas” by the seafarers of old. The archaic term and belief that there existed a "sky", same as the one above, that lay mirrored beneath the threshold of water’s surface.”
“Lastly, are the prismatic Coral Shols that in our tongue are known as the Khomure, of whom preferred the warmer and calmer waters of the protected shallows. Unsurprising, given that they inhabit the regions most frequented by the landlocked and other sentients perhaps, but amongst our Maritime brethren, they are perhaps the most fond and open to engaging landwalkers. Though they’ve a penchant for mischief like the rest of us, the Khorr actively seeking out those whom shared their tide pools and protecting and guiding the wayward seafarers. Lockes stared out over the great blue expanse of both sky and sea, “... If there is indeed someone still amidst the living then it is likely the former.”
Why, Lockes didn't tell, and needn’t elaborate. Some things are better left unsaid. “Let me make this clear. You are not diving to find the Circle of the Lumineus Shols. You will not find it. And if by some miracle you do, you will never reach it. Not alive anyhow.” the Northern Blue turned to the Seeker. “You are diving to search for the loose strands, the feelers of their web. From there, we will have our best chance to navigate our descent to the Ring. Oh. And one last thing.” Lockes held his gaze, voice firm, “Should you find one, do not follow, no matter how enticing they may appear. I wish you a safe return.”
His eyes slipped shut. Had it been a couple of cycles past, the command would’ve been a standalone statement. To the Alpione Shol, Zeal was, and is, a Reaper. Responsible for the horror and carnage their kind suffered. No amount of Time would change that. But Lockes had at long last begun to accept the Seeker. Not with obligation as before, but with Heart.
It showed in the things they said, and didn’t say.
It may not have seemed to be of much import, but the second warning and gentle concern revealed more than was let on.
Lockes did not speak unnecessarily. Before, the severed Shol would've stated a simple command, oft pertinent with Shol-kind and with explanations oft forsaken, to be disregarded at one’s own risk. And when probed for information, would state the fact of the matter. The “what” and “why” without censor. Blunt statements that in their objective truth, consumed them with guilt, and wrought naught but the same from Vye, having been the sole survivor in a deluge of blood, spared the brunt of the terror and mutilation of the Harvest Moon.
The Khomure Shols were closest to their fleshling companions, and were one of the first to go as a result. The fleshlings knew of their existence, so when the Plague manifested and fleshlings discovered the potency of a Shol’s nectar and flesh, they were harvested. Butchered and bled.
Though less affected, having been a Reaper and active for the entirety of the Harvest Moon, Zeal couldn’t claim to be completely unbothered. These were stories he knew well. Connections he should’ve been able to see. That given the circumstances, should’ve known better, but didn’t.
Because he couldn’t be bothered to care.
Little could hide the sheer loathing, nor the scathing accusations the severed Shol harbored. Though they both knew it unfair that they were projecting the entirety of the bloodshed upon him, but it did little to dull the anguish suffered merely by the painful reminder that came with the Seeker’s presence alone.
It seemed in those Times of the not-so-distant past, that the Bluepine almost desired his disobedience. For the karmic retribution of his ignorance, to their plight and kind, to come back to bite him.
A small hand on his, brought the Seeker's attention to his young charge. Concerned yet hopeful eyes searched his.
It was all for naught. But the Seeker clambered to his feet even before his breath had evened, and after a deep breath, dove in. The murky waters proved barren, the scintillating rainbow plethora of coral that had once covered the shallow sea bed now lay desolate and grey.
Over the shelf he went, and without hesitation, plunged deeper still to where the caverns lay just beneath the sheer bluff continental shelf. It was a terrifying experience, staring down the precipice into the gaping darkness, where shadows shifted, looming just out of sight.
In the inky depths there was nothing to occupy his senses, and he was left to his mind’s eye. And there he saw the shell-shocked despair that had so stricken the young Shol when Lockes had been struck down.
"Lockes!” Vye screamed, reaching out for the other Shol.
The desperation on the Bluepine’s face as they threw an arm out, “Vye! Get out of he—”
From the Bluepine’s midsection did a barbed blade surface, showering the snow with an icy blue spray.
"Lockes—” Sanguine eyes, widening, first in disbelief at what he was seeing, and then horror.
And Zeal felt it through his charge.
The slight quiver in Vye’s chest, tightening nauseatingly as they stumbled, paralyzed by an icy fear that saw more than the massive blade protruding from the older Shol.
There is no growing used to Heartache, it only ever grew heavier, eating away at the Heart with each loss, and made all the more painful by its familiarity. And in Vye’s frozen gaze, the Seeker saw the familiar sight. Saw Vye’s recognition.
A gurgling cough, and a splattering of more blue.
"Vye—run.”
Fear so raw that his Scythe pulsed at the sight of it. A strong, solid, hungering, beat that was almost as suffocating as the unadulterated fear that was drowning out all else. Carved deep into him through the massacre of the Harvest Moon past.
He shuddered, blood humming with anticipation. That moment was one he wouldn’t soon forget. It was in his blood.
Soon, he reached the depths where the gloom became impenetrable.
The Song of the Seas faded behind him, the reverberations of the waves dying down. It felt as if the entirety of his Life were being laid bare before him. There was no hiding from himself here, suspended in complete and utter darkness, exposed to the judgement of his own self. Nature is cold, apathetic there was no one, and nothing, to hide from. Nature cared not for such pointless things as his thoughts, or the airs the living put on. There was no one else. Just him.
The burn of his lungs snapped him from his reverie, and minutes later he surfaced, pulling himself tiredly up onto the beach before collapsing. Vye was by his side in an instance, patting him with cloth and tugging him towards their camp. It was too dark to make another dive.
They would try again tomorrow, but for now, a warm meal and fire called to him.
But even as he wolfed down the food, his attention was drawn to the seas. There was an almost hypnotic rhythm to the crashing waves. One that but grew louder the longer he listened, so much so that the seas seemed nigh humming.
"Do you hear that?"
He regretted it almost immediately, for Lockes stilled, and cocked their head listening to the stillness broken by naught but the waves. They shook their head, fronds swishing silently behind them, they flicked their unease as their wielder strained against the howling of the ebullient seas.
Vye had fallen into a different sort of silence. And at length, gave a single, tentative, dip of the head. Not for a lack of certainty, but for their company. The realization that dawned on Lockes and their overlong stare pulled uncomfortably at him, and he was awash with a fresh wave of guilt that emanated from Vye.
It was a bit ironic really, that the Reaper had gained what they had lost.
At first they had seethed, an undeserved gift. Why had he been able to connect with the Verdance? To be able to hear the Heart's Song, and Heart of all Life. Life which he had stolen and partaken of. Life that was not rightfully his to take. The immeasurable suffering, the hands that were drenched in blood, stained so deeply as the night itself. But at length, the dark Shol conceded. Perhaps this was for the best, that it was Zeal who had gained the ability to hear the Heart's Song. Mayhaps this would be the beginning as they slowly bridged the gap between their kind.
The severed Shol lowered their bowl, as did their eyes, "... Tell me what you hear."
Please.
It came out sounding far too desperate, and much like a plea for Zeal's taste. How they longed to feel the Life around them once more. To be able to be a part of the Verdance, and feel the presence of Life that was ever with them.
Though reluctant still, he spoke out of obligation. To what had once been, but now is lost. "The seas are… they roar with more than the breaking of the waves. An echo of sorts. Reverberating. Tumultuous, and full of sorrow.”
As if the ocean had become the embodiment of someone's lament.
A Heart, torn from the warmth of the sandy beds and dashed against the shore in endless waves, only to be swept out and lost forever at sea. Never to return, never to—
"... That the song echoes even now is promising. May it be of one that has yet to return to the Earth." Lockes sighed. The Alpione Shol stares wistfully out over the relentless waves. Would that the Heart's Song resonated within me still.
Whatever magic was woven by the Lumineus Shols, it would yield naught to outsiders, and at best difficult to unravel as a fellow child of the Verdance.
They would need more than just gills to reach the grotto.
Vye, though gifted in the arcane, was lacking. Not by any fault of his, simply that the advances artes of manipulation and the intricate weaves that were innately theirs to wield, would bear too much of a strain on his yet small body. He wasn’t ready for that kind of burden, not yet. Lockes on the other hand was too far from the Crier to branch into the Verdance, and could feel no more than the sparsest wisps of color. Navigating the intricate web of the Lumiens as things were, on top of sustaining the pressure, temperature, and air around them would potentially leave the severed Shol overextended. Should the Bluepine falter for even a moment, the pressure of the abyss would crush them all in an instant. It was far too risky, and the Northern Blue was not so conceited in their abilities as to place their companion’s lives on such a fine line. Besides, they were certain that regardless of who guided their treacherous descent, the final step of actually passing through the woven veil that shielded the Lumines Ring would require their intervention.
And that left but one other.
Lockes shot a furtive glance at the taciturn man sitting across from him, his half lidded eyes reflecting naught but the licking flames.
Not that Lockes didn’t have their reservations still, but as difficult as it was for the Bluepine themselves to swallow, they were growing fond of the Reaper. Perhaps they owed it to the ample stores of the Alpione Circle upon which they had imbibed and shared many a case over. The unexpectedly lively conversation, and the most passionate they had seen the aloof man. It had been… fun. Oddly enough. A strange concept given all that’s transpired. Given the sum of all that they were. Regardless, the Bluepine was coming to regard the future as hopeful, almost. A prospect both comforting and terrifying.
This one, Zeal. They were different. Be it by default or by design, the Seeker was connected to the Verdance, bolstering the aether available to him. But whereas Zeal’s strength lay in his greater stores and endurance to bear such high levels of aetherical conductivity, he lacked Vye’s finesse. The Seeker was progressing fast, for a stone-dweller.
But would it be enough? Those of molten blood struggled greatly with weaving. Even mastering a mere illusion or dreamscape, was a challenge for them, never mind the fine, ever shifting tendrils conjured by the meticulous hands of a seasoned Lumineus Shol.
And then there’s the matter of where Zeal’s true limits lay. He would likely find his plateau soon. While Zeal’s storage of aether is currently greater than Vye’s, it was an attribute of their different stages of growth more than anything else. Fleshlings have a significantly lower overall affinity and aetherical capacity, even in comparison with a Coty. At his best, Zeal was already ahead of the curve, but he may still not have enough.
… There was always the chance that Zeal was an anomaly. An outlier.
Such potential in Sol’s brood was scarce beyond words—but not unheard of.
And—Lockes gave him another sidelong glance—there was one other way.
A last resort.
Reapers were able to store vast amounts of aether, albeit temporarily, in their scythe. Enough to rival most Shols, if ever they were given the opportunity to consume such massive quantities.
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