IP: 76.28.225.70
Posted on July 26, 2015 at 11:28:58 AM by TORRAM
It was dawn, and he was still there. What am I doing? Torram wondered, shifting positions slightly as his mind turned over the same thoughts he'd been having since dusk the day before. They said it could take him anywhere, this hop-loop. Torram turned the item over and over in his hands, wondering what undeniable force had drawn him to the market that day, and then straight to this device. He'd put it away for three hours, told himself he'd forget about it, but... Then, before he knew it, he was on the beach, standing in the exact spot where Mallos had saved his life. In a moment he could be anywhere in the universe, anywhere he wanted to go, but he'd spent hours right there on that quiet beach. Paralyzed. Because the answer to the question of where to go was there, right in front of him, and it made his heart thunder every time he looked directly at it. He sucked a breath in, trying to ignore how it shook, and got slowly to his feet.
And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Lylia Ramett roamed her family's quiet countryside estate like a frail ghost, a fragment of the indomitable woman she appeared in the public eye. The hour was late - or perhaps terribly early - and though her beloved husband snored peacefully in her bed, she could not bring herself to join him just yet. Though she had put on a brave face to the public eye - a Grand Duchess must always remain composed - inside her heart was broken; her thirdborn was... missing. She paused at a window, staring up at the wide face of the moon as she freed another desperate prayer. Even though the others were so certain he was gone, she could not bring herself to think of him like that. Not even in her mind could she voice her most desperate fear: that her dear, sweet boy was dead, brutalized by Falverin beasts or, far worse, inflicted with their curse, a wild monster that would be just as lost to her. Lylia's breath hitched then, the threat of tears making her throat tighten. She swallowed hard and turned back from the window, fists at her sides. Tears had their time and place, but it was not here and not now. Because her mind was most at ease when occupied, Lylia made her way now with purpose, determination in every step. She entered her study, lit a candle in the dark with ease, and started a fire in the hearth. Lylia liked knowing how to do these little things for herself, things so many nobles would have roused a sleepy maid to do instead, and took a moment to study her handiwork before she took up her sewing implements and went to work. She knew, in the back of her mind, that her obsession with the blanket was... unusual. Perhaps even unhealthy, but no matter how many times she'd set it aside to work on something else, she just couldn't leave it there. The blanket was a comforting yellow hue and soft as a kitten's fur, the sort of thing you gave to a mother for her babe. Once the major sewing had been completed, Lylia had set about adding small animal shapes to the corners; it had started with a lion, a smug smiling creature, and now came an otter in deep purple. She did not know where these animals came from, what force was guiding her hands, but she followed the voice of her heart, love pouring out in every stitch. A few hours passed in silence, until Lylia finished adding the final animal: a strange beast pulled from her imagination, a long-limbed creature with the body of a deer and a strange extended neck. The blanket was done. Unable to do anything else, Lylia cradled the blanket to her heart and wept the tears she'd held back for so long. "Mama?" A voice, familiar but somehow different than she remembered, echoed in the silence of the study, shocking her so deeply that she stopped crying immediately. Slowly, already cursing the cruel Trickster for toying with her so, Lylia got to her feet and turned to face the door. "Ah, mama, don't cry!" Her boy's voice was strangled-sounding - deeper than she remembered, too - as he stepped forward into the light, his gray eyes filled with concern. Lylia stared, sucking in every detail she could. He smelled of... sawdust and ocean breezes. He was taller, and stronger too it seemed, but his face - even with its shading of stubble - was as familiar to her as her own. Her boy stood there, so vibrantly alive that his presence threatened to overwhelm her, looking at her as if afraid he wouldn't meet her approval. "Torram?" she whispered it. And then, because she could do nothing else, she screamed it as she ran into his waiting arms. "TORRAM!" [ooc] Just to clarify, Tor's just visiting home/letting his family know he's okay! :) Probably more posts about the visit to come! [/ooc] |
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