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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 6, 2024 17:06:24 GMT -5
The small, emerald eyed skeleton tilts his head as he examines the staff, emerald eye lights shining with curiosity and sharpening with focus as they trace over Idun’s loosely woven form. Then the little crow bobs his head and turns to rummage through his satchel, eventually retrieving what looks like a…a small femur, “...this is o-one of my old bo-bones,” Loci explains, the little skeleton’s voice soft and almost…almost reverent as he holds it up to the light, a considering expression in the shape of his eye lights and the ruffling of his spectral feathers, “...W-Wind an’ I…w-we’re dead. f-frozen in our eggs. Mom g-gave us a second chance, b-but...we d-don’t g-grow…M-Mom’s wo-worked around that b-by wea-weaving us f-fresh shells t-to match our tw-twins’ g-growth, b-but our o-old bones do-don’t d-disappear like Dad d-does a-after blocking a couple hits…” those shining, verdant eye lights flick to focus on Marion as he offers the femur to the sun elf, “...the-there’s s-still re-residual power i-in them…w-we can see that sort of thing, W-Wind an’ me…I-I think it could be help i-Idun g-grow up strong…a-and…and I’d k-kinda l-like to be part of s-something the-that st-still has a chance to g-grow…” Loci adds the last bit almost sheepishly, ducking his head a little as he lets out an anxious little trill.
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Post by Marion Aurea on Jun 6, 2024 18:05:20 GMT -5
While- that is a lot to take in for one sitting, Marion listened, and he took the offered bone with great care.
“... I am honored to."
He was still young, and he couldn't mask the change in his expressions when he heard the tale from the chick. And he had thought- but then again, this is the life that they had always known, and who could say it's not a life worth living? It was... nothing short of a miracle.
Taking Idun in a hand and holding it straight against the earth, Marion closed his eyes- and the sapling *unraveled*. Branches unwrapped itself from the weave of the stave, roots extended, and grew into the soil- new leaves sprouted, as Marion sung to it. There were no words to be made out, but a soft haunting melody, as it unraveled itself more, the white bark twisting inside out to reveal golden sap within.
The process did not take long, for a stave to become a tree to spreading itself open like a flower- and Marion placed the bone admist the gold, and sung again softly, and you saw the bark and the branches reverse- wrapping up this offering into itself, as Idun became a tree again.
"-She will remember you, in every new leaf, and in every fruit she shall come to bear." Marion's voice sounded a little different when he said this, more of a sung whisper than his usual voice- perhaps it is only the magic that still leaks from his voice.
"Will you sing to her?" —————————————————————————————————————————————————————— 1.Plant Growth
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 6, 2024 18:39:15 GMT -5
Loci blinks slowly, then bobs his head in an avian nod and makes a sound as though clearing his throat - he doesn’t have a throat to clear, but it makes him feel better, so sue him - before beginning to hum. It’s a single note at first, soft and clear and resonant, slowly shifting into a wordless melody of his own before his beak parts and it becomes a song, with words in a strange, almost twisting language that Marion has never heard before, has never even heard mention of, yet somehow the message makes it across…it’s a song of mourning for that which was lost, a song of pain and grief and an eternity of darkness and ice…and it’s a song about escaping the darkness, about being given a chance to steal back that which was denied, about discovering warmth and freedom and light, about taking the ice that remains and using it to grow towards something new…
…when it’s over, the little skeleton’s cheekbones are awash with spectral, emerald tears, and his mother reaches forward to pull him into a gentle hug, cooing softly as she wipes away her own tears, murmuring words too soft for Marion to catch more than the barest hints of pride and encouragement and…”...you’re growing up so fast, little one…”
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Post by Marion Aurea on Jun 6, 2024 19:29:40 GMT -5
Marion opted to leave the moment to the crows themselves, and while the song lingered in the air, he took Idun’s branches into his fingers and wove them back to her trunk- it was almost like braiding hair, how the living wood yield supple under his touch in the music. While she is too young to flower and fruit now, Marion looks to the future, where death and thereafter blossoms once more, and thus is the lot of the living, and all that inhabits this earth. “I’ll be sure to send some apples your way when she’s ready.” Smiling, he said. “She was grafted from my father’s tree, which was a sapling of our grandfather’s- she’ll be planted one final time when I decide to settle down, perhaps, and she will grow tall, perhaps to become as large as this tree we are seated under.”
The elf seemed to find comfort in this, as he shared, and his smile was soft and warm. “I do not wish for eternity, but Idun will be there maybe longer than I will be. The earth remembers us the same as it forgets us, for we were all its children in the end. Dust- no more, and no less.”
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 7, 2024 1:54:33 GMT -5
Rena chirps softly, chuckling a little as those silver eyes glance up to regard Marion, “...I envy ye, for your acceptance in the face o’ the reaper…that’s…not a conclusion I’d be able to manage…” she trills softly, refocusing on her softly weeping skeletal son, who happily nestles into her embrace as she gently nuzzles him, “...they’ll grow up an’ move on past me ‘n eventually…all I can do is make sure they’re ready when the time comes…” she lets out a soft, sad little trill, gently nuzzling Loci again as his siblings all nestle close, Whistle and Wind resuming their respective meals with contented trills.
Bell trills softly, those amber eyes glancing at his wife as he tilts his head slightly. This isn’t…a new sentiment from Rena, but he’s not sure how she got the idea that their children are going to leave…or perhaps he’s the one who’s got the wrong idea. Either or. Regardless, the specter is happy to provide comfort, letting out a soft coo as he hugs her tight…
Loci trills happily as his tears slowly dry away, nestling against his mother and letting out what can only be a low, rumbling purr...
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Post by Marion Aurea on Jun 7, 2024 2:20:24 GMT -5
"You remind me of my own mother, she wept too as I left home- maybe all mothers are alike in that way. But I do miss her always, and think of all she had taught me about how to navigate the world- Papa was quite the recluse, you see-" At that Marion chuckled, and shook his head before continuing, picking up the stew that he had left off from before. "- and, sometimes, I think that she is with me like this. We do have a promise to meet up next year though, and then I can tell them everything I have seen and learnt- and there will definitely be her honey roast on the table! No one makes it as good as mama does, and she still won't tell me the recipe!"
Making a huffy face at that, Marion proceeded to sooth his wounded soul with some good food- not as great as the honey roast that he had just mentioned, but good none the less.
"... But, as much as I love mama and papa, I can't stay as their little sun forever, I think- But love isn't so fragile a thing that is broken by distance and time- even by death, sometimes, and that's where grief comes from. " The elf said, after thinking for abit. "- or maybe you could just go on adventures with them if they want to! Mama and Papa had to stay in the Valley, well, since the valley needs them, but it would have been so nice if they could have came along with me! Papa would have been sooo annoyed by the ruckus in the marshes and we'd all laugh at him."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 8, 2024 1:54:26 GMT -5
Bell lets out an amused trill, amber eyes dancing with mirth, “...well, if I know anything about secret family recipes, you’ll likely be getting a special little cookbook around the same time you start settling down with someone…” the specter smiles softly, “...my own mother didn’t give me mine until Rena and I were engaged…” and a small, wistful trill escapes his throat as he hugs Rena a little tighter…
Rena, for her part, smiles wanly, “...even still, I can only stay by their sides for so long…and if they decide to scatter, I’ll have to choose who I want to travel with at any given time…and that’s if I can find them all…if they still wish to have me by their sides…” those silver eyes gently shimmer as she nuzzles her eldest son, cooing softly and quietly sighing, “...I cannae protect my little ones forever…the best I can do is try to push them, so they’ll be ready when they finally wish to leave…but if I push too hard…best case scenario, they leave and never look back…” the silver eyed crow lets out a bitter laugh, “...wish my own parents had put as much care into raising my brother and I…”
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Post by Marion Aurea on Jun 8, 2024 2:26:29 GMT -5
Ears perking up with that Bell said, Marion had to rub his cheeks to try and contain that heat of mild embarrassment rising into his face with that thought- well, it will be all very cute, but, oh- it is still rather flustering to think about.
"I mean... if in doubt, it never hurts to ask." Musing out loud, the elf nodded to himself. "Mn, it's important to know. A single hand would not clap, as in- you know, it's a team effort! It's more reassuring to consider it like this."
Glancing back at Idun, which remained upright, rooted in the soil with its branches slowly growing and new leaves unfurling, Marion hummed, wistfully. "- And tragedies and sorrow does not have to repeat itself, or else we would all be doomed- no, I think. Pain had always been pain, and blood had only ever been red as it is, there is no poetry nor glory in them- But it is the person that makes them into poems. That's as what I have read, at least. And when the first mosses and fungi lands on barren rock admist the salted tides and high winds- but they dug their heels in and lived and died, and their bodies becomes the soil of which new life grows, and their erosion on the stone- however little it may had been- until it becomes sand."
Sighing, the elf put a palm against the pale bark of his tree.
"We had... always, lived under the tree that ones that came before us planted, I want to plant my own tree in some way- as many as I could, really, and this little fortune that I had been blessed with can become much more than my own's. And the world would become a little better when I leave it, than when I came, maybe. It's probably rather delusional to say." Taking a chuckle to himself, Marion grasped Idun, and pulled her from the ground. the living roots touching air and wrapping back into itself, and the branches drew together tight in the form how Marion had woven it loosely- the progress is visible, how the sapling staff looked more of a staff than it had been before.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 8, 2024 22:19:08 GMT -5
Rena smiles softly, those silver eyes gently shimmering as she chuckles, “...not delusional in the slightest…I admire your altruism…all I’ve ever wanted is to keep those I love safe…” she snorts, “...couple of rotten deals and we lost so much…” - but you gained so much…all it took was your sanity, ------’s life and the memories thereof - the crow blinks, confused at the tears rolling down her feathered cheeks, “...I…why…why am I…crying?”
Bell tilts his head slightly before hugging her a little tighter, letting out a soft trill as he - comforts his surviving partner - nestles close and gently brushes her tears away.
The fledglings look on, concern and confusion on their faces as they watch their parents. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but…these moments have been getting more frequent, lasting a little longer each time. Sometimes…sometimes there’ll be real grief in their father’s eyes, or self loathing in their mother’s, but it’s always gone in the same moment…
…Loci has his suspicions as to the cause - he’s seen the scars at the bases of his mother’s wings, like those wings were forced upon her, the skin melted like candlewax…
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Post by Marion Aurea on Jun 8, 2024 23:14:59 GMT -5
The child of golden grain had not yet known tragedy intimately, nor have he known true horror. It was the mundane world that he had ever known, tents set up in the open fields, seeing smoke from cooking fires rise- the wind and the sky and the earth loved him, and the world was gentle. As Marion had said- he was a little fortunate.
But life is within these bounds of what you already know. Even if he had not known them, he had seen them- for the gold of the house of Aurea is the gold of plenty. When his father goes seek the sick and injured, and would hold their hand gently, singing softly, as they recounted their tales, sickness and plague and poverty, metal crashing and blood soaking the earth below, misfortune, regretted choices- or simply, fate. As much as a recluse they chide him to be, Father always attends the funerals, and Marion goes with him too. Mother walks with him along the trails of trampled grass towards the black smoke of burning, her song trailing behind her in the wind. None of them were warriors, but Mother sings, her song growing fields of wheat and barley, of sweet grass and succulent greens. What people took from people, she gives back what she could. Because the gold of the house of Aurea is the gold of plenty.
Marion spread open his arms forwards. He does not know the biting cold of winter yet, but still- what little he could do, he would like to offer. "May I- give you a hug?"
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 9, 2024 21:05:05 GMT -5
Rena smiles softly, chuckling a little as she steps forward, softly embracing the taller elf - not as soft, not as warm, not as wonderful as her Bell or ███, but noone is - those inexplicable tears continuing to roll down her feathered cheeks as she lets out a low, slightly confused trill, “...I…why?…I don’t understand…” of course not. You asked for this, didn’t you? Asked for me to take the pain away? Don’t tell me you regret the first of our little bargains after all this time - she shudders, stolen wings twitching a little before she wraps those enormous - too large for her, better sized to someone half again as tall - limbs around Marion, the feathered appendages soft and warm…
…they’ve been through hardship, Bell and Rena and ███ both, through things they wish they could forget, things they never could - things they already have - and the prevailing truth of it all has been the inherent cruelty, if not of the world itself, then of the people who dwell upon it. Disease and famine and bloodshed, all presided over by a Raven Queen indifferent to the suffering of her people. And then the Hag came, and things only went downhill. Bargain after bargain, each at costing something that seemed so small at the time, yet quickly proved to be crippling, and yet the people of the Valley of Crows never seemed to learn…not until Fimbulwinter came, and by then it was far, far too late…
The Blackfeather fledglings, on the other hand…they’ve been more fortunate than their surviving parents, having been hatched and raised far from their people’s homeland, far from the blizzard-torn hellscape the Valley had become in the Hag’s wake…not to say that their lives have been easy, but…Mom and Dad and Bab’sk1 have been doing their best to make sure their little ones have better, brighter futures than they ever did…
1 - you need to remember
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Post by Marion Aurea on Jun 9, 2024 21:34:29 GMT -5
Marion would have no way of knowing what had befallen before, nor is he the sort to pry- he does not understand as well, but he was warm to the touch and smells of citrus and mint and the warm sunlight, and he was soft in his plenty, every dip and corner being rounded and full.
“You’d be alright. We’d all be, I think.”
He said, hugging the crow close, letting her tears seep into his golden hair.
“Things will always turn out alright if we keep on believing it will.”
Quite naïve ,perhaps, bur Marion had came to believe this through his years- there are always times when you’d look to the future and see nothing but bleakness, but it won’t do to believe in that. You’d have to believe it’s all going to turn out ok in the end- and then you’d be able to pick yourself up again and keep going. Sometimes that vision is like a mirage, dispersing when you come near to it- other times it is partly true, but nearly never as bad as you think. And Marion learnt to keep himself walking, looking ahead towards the sun and not looking back on his shadow behind him.
He looked over at the chicks-and Bell, and with a smile, waving them over with the intent of a big hug-tackle pile.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 9, 2024 21:51:57 GMT -5
And a hug-tackle pile is exactly what he gets, the children scrambling to launch themselves at their mother and Marion, the skelechicks being noticeably gentler about it than their living counterparts as Bell slowly drifts over to join the group hug, a small smile on his face as he trills affectionately, though his eyes are somewhat distant - in his mind’s eye he sees t̵̙̾h̸̩̎ĕ̷͎ ̴̲̔t̸̪̏a̴̡̍l̶̪̓l̶̖͋ȩ̷̎r̷̰̊ ̷͙̊o̴͖̽ḟ̶̢ ̵̩͠h̶̳̏i̸̡͑s̴͇͑ ̵̣̀l̴̝̍õ̴̰v̸͇̔e̵̱̿s̷̠̈́ at the Hag’s feet, broken and dying, and he knows in his heart that he should never have hoped - “...one can only hope…” the specter murmurs, those amber eyes drifting shut as the crows all nestle in against Marion…
there’s another presence in the embrace, faint and ethereal, damp like tears and cold like snow. And though █████████ remains forgotten, the unseen ř̸̜a̷̝̋v̷̻͗e̴̺̾n̴̨͂ knows that it is not for long, for the path has been set before their loves…and all the crows must do, is walk it…
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