Dulgardi and her sister come from a long line of Seers. She has the gift, and so did her mother, and her mother before her, and so on, and so on. But with the sight, comes a price. Their mother often said that visions and madness have visited their family in equal measure. The gift has skipped Kaligarda, but not the madness.
However she remembers a time, long ago, and brief as a flame, when the opposite held true, when Kaligarda had the sight, and her senses.
Kaligarda was a youth, but six seasons. She recalls cradling her sister’s trembling body in her arms when she awoke from the nightmares. The girl’s gown soaked through with sweat, tiny bones creaking like they would snap in her embrace. On those long torturous nights, their mother felt an ocean away in her chambers, but when the sun broke, she would appear, her words assuring, yet her eyes wavered, shining with terrors.
Then one night, Kaligarda saw something in those dreams too terrible to return from. She has not had a vision, nor been the same since.
Her sister, though still afflicted, has recovered greatly since then. These days Kaligarda spends her time brewing her own breed of burnwater, and helping her to raise her daughter, Saroya. As every child does, Saroya has changed her sister, helped to heal her spirit.
Their mother instilled a great sense of independence and distrust of others in them. It is because of this, she knows they will never marry, although she hopes Kaligarda one day will raise a child of her own. There is great joy in children. It is why she accepted Saroya when the young girl’s father perished in a hunt. And although the child is not her blood, she is hers all the same.
Saroya however, does not posses their gift, so both she and Kaligarda have tried to raise the young one in the way, but however dutifully studious Saroya is, the child does not believe. Yet she knows that her young one can indeed see. Not in the way their bloodline can, but in the way a hunter can read the soil, and knows what has trespassed there. Perhaps there is time yet. Unlike her mother, Dulgardi’s sight has always been clouded when focused on her kinfolk.
As it has always been, Dulgardi carries the burden alone. She prays that the gods may watch over her kin.
༺═────────────────────═༻ This is the Temple of Creation. You guys will learn a little more about the Temple and the sight with upcoming posts about the Nerebas family.
The second picture is taken by @nilxis. Nilxis was kind enough to take a ton of pictures for me, for my debut post. At the time, my computer was out of sorts. Anyway, I really want to showcase some of his pictures in themes. So I threw this together.
*Disclaimer*: The Temple of Creation is a wip for Nilxis. So the look may change in future posts.
Srayass Prangmahe (Moon Monastery) EFVirinday,EFHeredya,EFBryni,AFIndisfare,YAFTarane,TFLeofe,CFSxanti Colors: Does not apply
Chosen by Srayama, it has been eight seasons since Sxanti was given to her moon sisters. Eight seasons of rituals and worship for her to learn, and chores, always plenty of chores. It is a lot of hard work, but when she looks at her sisters, she sees the woman she wants to become.
She sees it in Mother Virinday’s stern but good heart. She see’s it in Mother Bryni’s lined hands that shape clay into magic. She see’s it in Mother Heredya’s laughing eyes, and the elegant fingers that can milk music from even stone. She sees it in Sister Indisfare’s picky gaze, and her pockets which hold all sorts of wonderful lost things. She sees it even in Sister Tarane, however sour she may be, her food sits so sweet in the belly. But most of all, she sees it in her spirit sister Leofe, in that kind brave smile.
One day yet, she will be like them.
What, you’re still not following @furufuro? What are you waiting for??
Koruss Prangmahe (Death Monastery) EMLiwe,AFLarrya,TMAxan Colors: Does not Apply
Liwe sometimes thinks upon the days of old. The golden seasons of the monastery under Elder Toxir. However, Elder Toxir has long since passed, and things have long since changed with the seasons, worsening upon the arrival of the pirates. The location of the monastery was a precarious one, too close to their enemy. And as a result, fear weakened his people, spoiled the blood of those who would train in the worship. For a time, it was only him to honor their god and the dead, but now, blessedly, he shares his duties with the young ones.
The youngest, Axan, arrived first after the passing of his parents. Farmers of good stock they were, touched by the gods. Yes, perhaps their eldest was not chosen by the flame of Ilish, like their youngest, however their boy had good blood like his kin. When the child set his mind off of imagination, Liwe would often catch him practicing death rites into the night. His hands and feet moved far too stiffly to be perceived as dance, but the boy’s earnest sway shone with sincerity. It tempered Liwe’s hand, honored the dead.
The eldest of the two youths, Larrya, came many seasons later, after a great tragedy in her family. She is kind, and dutiful. Still, Liwe is often worried by her quietness, but when they, the three, sing, her voice is a ringing bell, the steady wail always carrying over their own. It quiets Liwe’s heart, honors the dead.
He knows they, the two, will honor him and their god, once he is called by stone to lay beside the ancestors.
༺═────────────────────═༻ I’ve been sick, but I thought I’d post something for your guys as it’s been a while. No worries, we’re still working on Uranesia .
Check out this cool collage of some of Uranesia’s inhabitants!
