Degdeekhei (June 3010) {Meludir}
Apr 15, 2018 8:40:52 GMT -5
Post by ELIRA on Apr 15, 2018 8:40:52 GMT -5
Kelet heard a song winding through the trees, drifting down to the still air beneath. She stood looking upon the black river, watching the water ripple and it was perhaps only the song which was growing closer and closer that had caused her to pause. To keep from stepping forward and placing her toes back in the beckoning waters. She loved water, and these waters were special. The mist was drifting upward into the air off the stream, and Kelet was breathing it in. It made her to feel… drowsy. Nearly asleep where she stood; at least asleep in the manner of elves, she was beginning to walk into her dreams.
“Tiim saikhan ...” Kelet whispered. So sweet. So disillusioned was she by the black waters that even her fine hearing did not take note of the hurried approach of the other. There were words spoken which where in a fluid language; rolling and flowing and musical, and she thought that they were the words of the water calling to her. She took a step forward; and the stream enveloped her, and pulled her down beneath it. It was lilting still, warm and steady.
“Please come with me. Do not go back to that treacherous river.”
She understood not the language, but the waters felt different; beckoning warm. They were asking her to go with them; to drift away beneath them. “Bi irekh bolno. Bi ochij baina,” she muttered. I shall come with you. I'm coming. Kelet opened her eyes again, and seemed to draw back to focus for a moment. She was not floating at all. She was standing still upon the high ground beside the waters, and it was not the river holding her, but arms restraining her, supporting her almost completely in her half dream.
Kelet's mind rolled away with the waters and she could not bring herself to speech, nor did she realize who it was who had restrained her. It was only after he had take her hand and begun to pull her through the forest that her mind let her to realize again it was the one she had come across in the forest before. The one she had… oh… her hand was in his, and she was going to burn him. She was burning his skin, she had burned it before.
“Namaig ginjleerei,” Please do not chain me again, she whispered, knowing he would not understand, fear was growing in her until he paused, and exclaimed again. He dropped her hand, and bounded off to stop near a cluster of forest flowers. Kelet was uncertain if she should depart; if he had in mind to restrain her again, she did not know what she could do. He was armed with weapons, she saw, and she knew she would not be able to run far with bow he carried. The Wainriders had bows, and could shoot long distances. She looked to the side, taking a step away, but he was returning her way now, and with a circlet of flowers he had made in his hand.
His look was disarming, to say the least. The smile again. She smile, she remembered that, and the ears. Oh, his ears! The circlet he placed upon her head and he gave her a word, while still smiling. He was ever so bright! Kelet felt her heart settle again, and she took a quick breath. No, he could not mean any harm by her. Her dreams had taken her to harsh places, but these were the ear people, and though they all carried weapons it seemed they.
Kelet looked down to his hands. They were not red; there was no mar of burn on his skin from where he had restrained her, nor where he had grasped her hand. Then, she touched the crown of flowers upon her hair, pulling it off and looking upon it. It was nothing like the crowns which the Easterling kings would wear, though perhaps this was the way of the forest people. The one before her must be the cheiftain of them, to make such beautiful crowns so elegantly, and quickly. Beautiful. She could smell the sweet perfume of the flowers, and the scent of it reminded her again of the river. Her head felt hazy, and she smiled, drawing herself from it.
“Bi üüniig ömsöj chadakhgüi. Bi khündetgel bish.” I cannot wear this. I have not the honor. It were only the chieftains of the East who would wear circlets upon their heads. She was no chieftain; only a ghost.
She took the circlet from her head, and placed it upon the smiling chieftain's. It must be that he had only wished to see what he had made. “Eol,” Kelet said with a small smile. And as she had before, she touched the tip of his ear, and marveled at it, and then slid her hair aside from her own, showing him. She was like him, she knew. They were of the same kind. People with the pointed ears. Walking spirits.
She paused, biting her lip, then patted her chest. “Kelet chikh,” she said. What name did he go by? Then she nodded pointing to him. “Ta?” she asked. You? She pointed to her self again, hoping he would understand “Kelet.” Ghost.
Her eyes turned up again to the flower crown on his head, and she smiled, feeling dizzy; tired. She had just slept? Slept in a deeper way than she had ever imagined. She had never been so tired before in her recall. The sweet smell. The flowers. The river. She turned her head to look back in the direction they had come from; where the black waters would roll over the stream bed and the rocks, and the mists would rise. They tempted her.
“Tiim saikhan ...” Kelet whispered. So sweet. So disillusioned was she by the black waters that even her fine hearing did not take note of the hurried approach of the other. There were words spoken which where in a fluid language; rolling and flowing and musical, and she thought that they were the words of the water calling to her. She took a step forward; and the stream enveloped her, and pulled her down beneath it. It was lilting still, warm and steady.
“Please come with me. Do not go back to that treacherous river.”
She understood not the language, but the waters felt different; beckoning warm. They were asking her to go with them; to drift away beneath them. “Bi irekh bolno. Bi ochij baina,” she muttered. I shall come with you. I'm coming. Kelet opened her eyes again, and seemed to draw back to focus for a moment. She was not floating at all. She was standing still upon the high ground beside the waters, and it was not the river holding her, but arms restraining her, supporting her almost completely in her half dream.
Kelet's mind rolled away with the waters and she could not bring herself to speech, nor did she realize who it was who had restrained her. It was only after he had take her hand and begun to pull her through the forest that her mind let her to realize again it was the one she had come across in the forest before. The one she had… oh… her hand was in his, and she was going to burn him. She was burning his skin, she had burned it before.
“Namaig ginjleerei,” Please do not chain me again, she whispered, knowing he would not understand, fear was growing in her until he paused, and exclaimed again. He dropped her hand, and bounded off to stop near a cluster of forest flowers. Kelet was uncertain if she should depart; if he had in mind to restrain her again, she did not know what she could do. He was armed with weapons, she saw, and she knew she would not be able to run far with bow he carried. The Wainriders had bows, and could shoot long distances. She looked to the side, taking a step away, but he was returning her way now, and with a circlet of flowers he had made in his hand.
His look was disarming, to say the least. The smile again. She smile, she remembered that, and the ears. Oh, his ears! The circlet he placed upon her head and he gave her a word, while still smiling. He was ever so bright! Kelet felt her heart settle again, and she took a quick breath. No, he could not mean any harm by her. Her dreams had taken her to harsh places, but these were the ear people, and though they all carried weapons it seemed they.
Kelet looked down to his hands. They were not red; there was no mar of burn on his skin from where he had restrained her, nor where he had grasped her hand. Then, she touched the crown of flowers upon her hair, pulling it off and looking upon it. It was nothing like the crowns which the Easterling kings would wear, though perhaps this was the way of the forest people. The one before her must be the cheiftain of them, to make such beautiful crowns so elegantly, and quickly. Beautiful. She could smell the sweet perfume of the flowers, and the scent of it reminded her again of the river. Her head felt hazy, and she smiled, drawing herself from it.
“Bi üüniig ömsöj chadakhgüi. Bi khündetgel bish.” I cannot wear this. I have not the honor. It were only the chieftains of the East who would wear circlets upon their heads. She was no chieftain; only a ghost.
She took the circlet from her head, and placed it upon the smiling chieftain's. It must be that he had only wished to see what he had made. “Eol,” Kelet said with a small smile. And as she had before, she touched the tip of his ear, and marveled at it, and then slid her hair aside from her own, showing him. She was like him, she knew. They were of the same kind. People with the pointed ears. Walking spirits.
She paused, biting her lip, then patted her chest. “Kelet chikh,” she said. What name did he go by? Then she nodded pointing to him. “Ta?” she asked. You? She pointed to her self again, hoping he would understand “Kelet.” Ghost.
Her eyes turned up again to the flower crown on his head, and she smiled, feeling dizzy; tired. She had just slept? Slept in a deeper way than she had ever imagined. She had never been so tired before in her recall. The sweet smell. The flowers. The river. She turned her head to look back in the direction they had come from; where the black waters would roll over the stream bed and the rocks, and the mists would rise. They tempted her.