Log Date: 11/20/95 Log Intro: Recent visitors to the Palace have rattled Rayek badly -- not the least rattling of which came from the returned Tilia. The arrived Go-Back, being one of four elves on the planet who could personify for Rayek his entire recent history, and the turmoil it has caused, has proved inscrutable... but neither has she interfered in the restoration work in the Palace. Gingerly, Rayek has continued his daily work with Ekuar, seeking images of the Palace as it once was in the Scroll of Colors and sending them to the old rockshaper, but the airwalker is not yet done receiving visitors -- or turmoil. ---------- [The log begins: Ekuar is at the top of the stairs, right outside the Scroll Chamber, deeply and energetically consumed in a rockshaping trance. His mind is locked with Rayek's as the two elves work to repair and reconstruct weak places in the floor.] Lursa comes up the stairwell from below. Lursa has arrived. Telia has arrived. Telia follows Lursa up the stairs, concerned over her entrance. Ekuar is kneeling, his eyes closed, his hand spread on the floor, as still as his beloved stone. Lursa stomps up the stairs, looking meaner than a snake-bit zwoot. She halts in front of Ekuar and growls out "Scroll Room?" Telia moves over and trys to block the enterance to the scroll room. Ekuar stirs, but his eyes don't open. He seems to be coming out of his shaping trance very slowly, his ancient brow wrinkling. You locksend to Rayek, Ekuar's mindlock with you, strong and sure, is suddenly tinged at the edges with uncertainty... as if something in the room has disrupted his deep shaping trance. Lursa perses her lips, slamming the butt of her spear on the floor and shouts "Is that misbegotten get of a diseased troll and a lame elk IN THE SCROLL ROOM? ??" You sense in a locksend, Rayek rouses, a bit, out of the imagery of solid, ornate floors he is sending you, and shapes his contact with a thread of concern and query. Telia sighs, some people are so emotional, ** Calm down! ** Lursa gestures at Telia, pointing straight at her and glaring "THIS is NONE of your concern!" Ekuar's eyelids flutter, and all at once his eyes open, wide and startled. He has snapped out of his trance, sharply and disorientingly, and he is frozen for a moment, regarding Lursa with an uncomprehending and frightened gaze. You sense in a locksend, Rayek's contact abruptly ceases. Telia hmphs and folds her arms, ** I'm making it my concern. ** You locksend to Rayek, Ekuar's contact snaps as well, startled, disoriented... almost ripped away, quite unlike his usual practice. Lursa grits out darkly "You don't want to make it so, Birdbrain" [Inside the Scroll Chamber, Rayek jerks where he's stood by the Scrolls for hours today, in trance -- shocked into reality by the voice he hears shouting outside. He is at first stunned; then, as realization hits him of who is shouting, he finds himself trembling, perhaps from fear, perhaps relief, perhaps both. But he can't make himself move, yet, to investigate the shout in person....] Telia frowns, ** You come storming in here, startling Ekuar, and you say it isn't my concern. ** Ekuar's thin frame shudders as he draws in a deep breath, blinking rapidly to clear his head. He wets his lips, and croaks, "...Eh...? Warrior?" His eyes still on Lursa, he begins to grope with his single wasted hand for his staff on the floor nearby. Lursa still glares at Telia "Ekuar, is that trice-cursed dung chip in there?" Lursa sneers at Telia "Are you that brownskinned airwalker? I THINK NOT! Go amuse yourself with your hawk" Ekuar's hand closes on the staff, pulling it toward him as he struggles awkwardly to try and rise. He seems a little shaken, still. "He...? Oh, eh... You're looking for Brownskin, then?" Telia sneers right back, ** I realize that he is not the most pleasent of people, but THIS IS NOT THE PLACE! ** You locksend to Rayek, Ekuar's mind reaches out for yours again, gathering scattered thoughts together after being startled so. In his wordless thoughts are strands of comfort, warning, worry, and steadfast loyalty, woven into a skein, thin but strong. [Inside the Scroll Chamber, Rayek sucks in a breath. Alright then, he thinks, and he turns to the door of the Scroll Chamber, amber eyes narrowing. If the Go-Back has come from her vengeance... so be it. He steels himself, and approachs the door.] Rayek has arrived. Ekuar is struggling to rise from the floor, but seems shaky. Rayek steps soundlessly out of the Scroll Chamber, face and gaze bleak. Telia is standing in the doorway, but its a big doorway. Lursa's eyes immediately flick from the presumptious Glider to the dark figure beyond her. Her gaze narrows, becoming even more cold. "YOU! Still to arrogant to know when to hide, eh? Any fancy blasts -this- time?" Rayek's brown face remains grave and impassive, save for the brief flash of concern as he glances to Ekuar, to make certain the ancient elf is sound. Then, as he glances back, he says, simply, "None." Telia sighs and goes over to give Ekuar a steading hand. Ekuar pulls the staff close and rises, shifting his weight, his stance becoming more steady with each second and each breath he draws. The momentary fear and disorientation from being shocked out of his deep trance has faded by now, being replaced with a keen expression of mingled love and worry. He nods gratefully to Telia as she steadies him. Lursa scowls and grips her spear tighter in her left hand "Care to explain why you tried to kill me, before the Palace gets another soul?" Ekuar blinks and opens his mouth, perhaps to intercede as best he can on his dear pupil's behalf... but then he looks from Rayek to Lursa and back, and closes his mouth again. There is something here, tighter than a drawn bowstring, that might not benefit from his interference, however much it springs from love. Rayek's gaze flicks to the spear, and he gives it a strange, almost wistful look before saying lowly to Lursa, "What difference will any explanation make, that I could give?" Telia locksends to Ekuar ** I think they must work this out for themselves, but if it goes too far I will try and stop it. ** Ekuar locksends ** Eh, you have my gratitude, pretty child. I think... I hope... that they can come to an accord... ** to Telia. Lursa sneers "I don't know. I thought I'd be savageless enough to offer...but... " Rayek, not quite meeting Lursa's eyes, says tonelessly, "You have no more reason to accept an apology from me than Cutter or Leetah. Do what you will; my shields are down." Ekuar locksends to Rayek, Ekuar's thoughts brush against your own, gentle, infinitely non-intrusive. ** Dear one... she can't accept what you haven't offered... ** Telia stands tensely next to Ekuar, watching the unfolding tableau intently. Ekuar glances at Rayek, his forehead wrinkling very slightly, gently inquisitive. Rayek locksends ** ...... ** to Ekuar. Rayek doesn't move, still, as of yet, does not quite meet Lursa's gaze. Lursa takes a step forward, bringing her other hand to her spear, leveling it at you....then stopping, eyes flying wide before her sneering scowl returns "You cowardly little mump! FIGHT, curse you!" Ekuar locksends to Rayek, Ekuar's mind pauses, and then sends to you, as soft as a fur-flower seed in the wind... ** What does it matter if there is no acceptance? At least you will have given the gift... ** Ekuar's clear, ancient gaze is still on Rayek. He doesn't stir when Lursa takes the step forward... Instead, he regards the darkskinned elf with acceptance and encouragement. The worry that had been in his eyes has gone, leaving in its stead only peace. Telia shifts her weight to another foot, her jaw is clenched tightly, but she just watches. Lursa grits out "Do you need an invitation? One of those fancy wands? A weapon? Lursa says "Or is it your last words youthink of?" Lursa takes another step Rayek lifts his head slightly, then, meeting Lursa's gaze at last -- though his own is just as bleak and flat as his words have been. In times past there might have been an arrogant growl to his voice, but now, again, it is impassive as he says, "I will accept whatever retribution you demand for the injury I dealt you. I was out of my head at the time, but that does not excuse harming another elf with weapons she could not hope to evenly match." He exhales, then finishes, gaze still steady and harsh, "Do what you will." Ekuar takes a step to Rayek's side, easing his staff against his body in order to leave his hand free. He slips his hand under Rayek's arm with a light, companionable touch. He leans slightly, familiarly on his student, turning his gentle gaze to Lursa. Rayek flicks a sidelong glance at Ekuar. Rayek locksends to Ekuar ** You owe her nothing. ** Lursa lets out a choked grunt/cry and rushes Rayek, her spear point leveled at his breast, death in her eyes...though alarm grows as the Rockshaper gets in the way, and the dark elf does nothing to counter her attack. Tossing the spear aside at the last moment possible, Lursa instead elects to throw -herself- at the magic user, intent on driving him to the Palace's floor. Lursa dropped Trollsbane. Telia relaxes and chuckles softly. Ekuar locksends to Rayek, Ekuar's mind chides softly, with good humor, ** Owe her? No, no, my dear. That's not it. ** Telia locksends to Ekuar ** Very nasty tactics. ** Ekuar locksends to Rayek, Ekuar's mind, in the moment before Lursa's rush, concludes simply, ** I am always with you. ** Lursa's spear comes close enough to almost graze Rayek before she discards it, away from himself and Ekuar Rayek does not dodge, nor, indeed, does he even make much of an attempt to block the charging warrior. Collided with, he topples backwards, without so much as a single sparkle of his magic to cushion his fall, and with a harsh grunt, he is down. Ekuar is shoved aside, and topples to the floor, his wooden leg folding under him. He cannot catch himself well with only one arm, but he falls lightly and rolls, his body somehow relaxed even as he is flung down. Telia leans back against the wall, nonchalantly, deciding to interfere yet, maybe this will teach Rayek a lesson. Lursa lands atop Rayek, working to pin him down, necessary or not, and snarls in his face "You can appologize to -me- til you're dead and cold, and I might believe you....but what about the -rest- of us, huh? What about those who fought and suffered and lived and died JUST SO THIS PRETTY PEICE OF ROCK COULD BE YOURS??? How are you gonna give them back what you stole?" Ekuar lifts his head and sits carefully upright... anyone who knows his history might remember, seeing the unexpected resilience of the gaunt, ancient figure, that it takes more than physical effort or violence to quell the rockshaper's bright spirit. He looks at Rayek, tipping his head a bit to one side. Lursa spits out "What kinda honor or thanks do you give them eh? Where would -you- be, if they'd decided the cost was too high? huh? HUH?" Rayek does not struggle; nor does he look away at Lursa's outburst of rage. She does not need to remind him of the dead Go-Backs spirits that now inhabit the Palace -- he's aware enough of them as it is. Aware, too, how they answered Tilia's presence in the Palace's halls more readily than his. But can he say anything at all that would make Lursa's anger less? Any less vehement -- or, for that matter, any less justified? Lursa sneers "I know -why- they attacked you for the Palace better than ever now...They were trying to save it from another Troll! " Ekuar's gaze goes steadily to Lursa. He says, gently, "Warrior... I'd like to say something. You used to listen to me once, I think, when I dwelled with your people, eh, in the ice. Would you listen to me now, hm?" Lursa's eyes snap with rage as she spares but an instant of a glance for the elder "Say what you have. Quickly" Still the self-elected master of the Palace is silent, even at Lursa's last hurled epithet. Still the set of his features is starkly emotionless -- save, perhaps, for the glitter of something like shame and grief in his gaze. Ekuar's thin mouth curves with the faintest of smiles, but the smile is genuine and good-natured. "Oh, my dear... you know I seldom do anything quickly." He looks at Rayek again for a moment, then back to Lursa, and lifts his hand in a graceful gesture. "Pain... blame... eh, there's been enough of it. Far too much. It' s been this way too long." His maimed hand takes in the walls, the ceiling, the floor in an elegant sweep. "What's more important is that we're working to change it, hm? We, meaning-- eh-- all of us. Brownskin and I in our way, by putting our souls and hearts into mending the Palace. Everyone else in their own way." He regards Lursa with warm eyes. Lursa holds tense, still, waiting with barely won patience for the elder to prattle, before she continues. Lursa snarls "This one has far -more- to mend than the Palace! But I might as well be yelling at -that-!" Rayek says at last, gruffly, "You wish me to yell back?" Lursa breaks her graps from Rayek and ckutches her fists together, sitting atop the prone elf and swings her combined fists in a rough, knuckled backhand Ekuar says, mildly, "We each do what we can. We each make amends as best we know how. Eh-- who knows better than I that the past cannot be changed? We can only move forward." Rayek, hardly able to dodge, grits his teeth and grimaces when the blow strikes home along his cheek. Again, no sign of his magic. Lursa says "What I want is the heart and soul back in my tribe!" Telia sighs, "Give them a new one." Ekuar flinches as the blow strikes home, almost reflexively, as if he moves and breathes with Rayek. But all he says, with great tenderness, is, "And does... -that-... make all right, my dear?" Lursa glowers at Ekuar, and glares back at Rayek again Zichri comes up the stairwell from below. Zichri has arrived. Zichri floats up the stairs.... Rayek, features drawn taut against the pain -- he'll have a grandmother of a bruise there soon, he's sure -- in his cheek, gives Lursa a hollow look that might suggest, at least to Ekuar, that Rayek has lost the same thing she claims he stole from her tribe. Zichri stops at the top of the stairs, and lands and watches quietly... Zichri walks over and stands beside Telia. Ekuar uses his hand to pull himself across the floor on his knee, slowly, the slightly askew wooden leg dragging lightly behind. He approaches the pair, his eyes moving from one to the other. Telia lays a hand on Zichri's shoulder. Lursa screams in Rayek's face "Do something, curse you! Speak, send...I've seen corpses with more life!" Ekuar reaches Lursa and Rayek, stopping close to them, his eyes welling with a deep and weary sorrow at Lursa's words... she's more correct than she knows, in many ways. Rayek smirks. Just slightly. He's already spoken once and gotten backhanded for it -- but then, he thinks, he has this coming, no? But he does say at last, "If I thought the Palace would obey my will... and safely, for itself and all those who might travel within... I would return it." Lursa's eyes narrow "WOULD you? And everything would be all better? SWEAR it....no...-SEND- IT!" Zichri nods to Telia.... Rayek's gaze doesn't waver. ** If having the Palace parked on your doorstep is your tribe's idea of 'making it better', then, yes. It would be. For your tribe. And yes. If I thought the Palace would obey me, and safely, then I would bring it back to you. ** Lursa reaches up and grips Rayek's lower jaw in her hand "And -send- that if you can ever do this, that you -will-." Telia just watches this all a slight smirk on her face. Ekuar reaches out and slips his hand between Lursa and Rayek, lightly touching the darkening bruise on Rayek's face where Lursa struck him. "Child," he says to Lursa, "Warrior... Gently, now. Listen to him. He's doing his best-- eh, as we all do. Or try to do." Rayek sends lowly, tonelessly, ** I swear it. ** Zichri looks up to Telia, "she barbaric..." Telia nods down at Zichri, "Yes, she is." Lursa ignores the child and glider, all but for a fleeting flinch in the set of her jaw Rayek still does not move, but simply stares up at Lursa grimly, waiting to see if the Go-Back is satisfied. Zichri continues speaking with Telia, a little quieter.. "Other two must be wimpy, if no can beat just one girl" Lursa gets up off Rayek, reaching to haul him up roughly by his upper arms. Telia looks down at Zichri, "Oh, and would you call anyone who couldn't beat your mother or I, wimpy?" Zichri thinks about this for a moment... Rayek climbs to his feet unaided, and begins to turn away. Tilia comes up the stairwell from below. Tilia has arrived. Zichri says "No, ut you and her gliders... she just barbarian" Ekuar pulls himself to his staff, and rises slowly to his feet. His wooden leg is slightly twisted, but serviceable. Tilia grumbles as she pushes up the stairs, "Blood and fire." Lursa reaches to catch at Rayek's shoulder, to spin him back to face her Rayek, feeling his shoulder caught, pauses, and looks back at Lursa stonily. Telia considers this for a moment, then nods. Tilia says aloud, "I don't think my brothers and sisters are ready for the Palace." Lursa says "I'll remember...and be waiting. Don't you DARE forget..." Telia looks upwards, "High Ones, someone with sense!" Ekuar's thin chest rises and falls in a sigh as Lursa seizes Rayek again. His eyes are deep with sorrow. Is the warrior never satisfied? Lursa lets Rayek go with a snort and moves to gather her spear Lursa glares at the child "OUt of my mind, fawn." Zichri glares back at her... no one allowed to glare at him... Rayek's amber gaze flicks up to Tilia, noting her arrival. If anything, his expression turns bleaker; to Lursa, he says without enthusiasm, "Forgetfulness is not a gift with which I have been endowed." Lursa picks up her spear Trollsbane has left. Tilia says "He's more right than ever." Lursa stiffens and scowls at the smallest elf Zichri smiles at her... a rather cold smile... Rayek turns, putting the darkening bruise on his cheek into the light for a moment, and steps with out fanfare into the Scroll Chamber. Rayek enters the chamber of the Scroll of Colors. Rayek has left. Ekuar locksends ** Brownskin? It was hard for you, eh, that much I know. Now you must know how proud I am of you. ** to Rayek. Tilia seems not to care and walks across the middle of the room. Ekuar hobbles after Rayek, taking smaller steps than usual because of the twisted straps on his wooden leg. He glances back at Lursa once, sorrowfully, but gently. You step through the tall doorway, and into the... Scroll Chamber This smallish chamber is sparsely furnished, bearing only a single empty chair which faces a platform; on this platform are the holders for the two halves of th e Scroll of Colors. Around you, the pale walls seem to ripple in places, but per haps that is a physical sensation, a trick of the light; what cannot be a light-trick is the sense of *presence* in the chamber, of welcome, and of magic. Contents: Rayek Delenbae Scroll of Colors Obvious exits: Out Ekuar senses in a locksend, Rayek touches your mind, briefly, with a hint of sad gratitude. Delenbae is sitting in front of the platform before the Scroll, eyes closed.. very still. Tilia arrives from the corridor outside. Tilia has arrived. Rayek steps in, gaze and expression utterly bleak; there is a huge, darkening bruise across his left cheek. And when he sees Delenbae poised here, he abruptly scowls, and whirls, intending to go back the way he came even if he must pass Lursa to do it. Delenbae sends openly ** There is no reason to leave.. Master of the Palace. I shall go, if my presence offends. ** Delenbae rises then. Rayek says flatly and without inflection to Delenbae, "I thought I had the exclusive right to be offensive in this place. No. Stay here if you wish." Ekuar locksends ** Eh, that isn't it, handsome child. I think Brownskin wanted to be alone, that's all... He's-- mm-- had a very hard time. ** to Delenbae. Delenbae shrugs. ** Perhaps someday, we will speak of this place. ** Delenbae looks at Rayek. ** Do you wish to keep your stripes, as a reminder.. or shall I set them right? ** Tilia leans against the well-shaped opening from the larger room, casual yet uncomfortable. Ekuar senses in a locksend, Delenbae manages so get across the idea of him bowing, mentally. ** Thank you, Master Shaper. ** Ekuar smiles gently at Delenbae. You locksend ** What a kind and polite fellow you are! And, eh, to offer to heal Brownskin, as well. Even if he refuses, my dear, you have old Ekuar's thanks. ** to Delenbae. Rayek does not look at Delenbae, though his brow furrows slightly at the offer of healing. "No." His voice is still low and without energy. "It will serve as a... reminder." Rayek does not elaborate, either. Ekuar gives a small and grateful nod to Delenbae. Delenbae nods. ** If I might ask.. where did you receive it? It seems to be a blow of some sort. ** Ekuar senses in a locksend, Delenbae nods mentally.. ** Perhaps it is you, who I should speak with.. ** Tilia says "Go on and take his healing, Rayek. You remember well enough without wounds." Ekuar pipes up, lightly, "Oh! Eh, same place I got the straps on my old wood-leg twisted around. Took a blow, took a fall." Rayek turns his regard back to Delenbae, hollowly. "Lursa dealt it. Justly." Ekuar locksends ** Speak with, eh? About what, healer? ** to Delenbae. Delenbae nods. ** I have seen her wrath, and the good she sometimes does with it. ** Ekuar fusses with the wooden leg for a moment, and then looks to Rayek with an appeal in his eyes. "Ehm. Brownskin... you know where I keep things, in our chamber. Perhaps you could go there? And-- find the things I need? So I can fix this old thing, eh, later." His forehead wrinkles. Delenbae locksends ** Of feeding this place, with my own shaping.. of what I believe should be done here.. of protecting our Palace.. of its future.. of the future of our race. ** to Ekuar. Delenbae looked at you. Rayek glances over at Ekuar... and his harsh, bleak expression softens briefly, with gratitude. But it doesn't reflect in his voice, as he says to the others, " If you will excuse me." And with that, he slips out. Rayek has left. Delenbae considers Ekuar for a moment, appraisingly, then shakes his head. Ekuar settles on the edge of the platform, tugging at the wooden leg's straps mildly. He looks after Rayek a moment, his eyes deep with a mix of emotions... love, protectiveness, worry, good humor... Tilia watches Rayek retreat with little more than a discontent expression. Ekuar blinks up at Delenbae, absent-mindedly recalling the last thing the healer sent to him. He beams. "My! That -is- a lot to speak about, to be sure. I'm not sure what answers I have for you, handsome visitor." Tilia murmurs, "Idiot." Tilia scoots out. Tilia has left. Delenbae nods to Ekuar, then in the direction of the no-longer-there Rayek. ** Perhaps not, but at least you might listen.. and thus what I wish to speak of might reach the ear of the the Master of this place. ** Ekuar hmms, chewing gently on his lower lip. "Well... eh... it seems that dear Brownskin won't be the sole Master forever, you see." He glances at the door, thoughtfully. Delenbae tilts his head. ** Oh? What does that mean? ** Ekuar lifts his maimed hand to stroke at his own face, in the same place where Rayek was sporting the darkening bruise. "Ehm... part of what Lursa wanted, you see. And part of what Brownskin offered her, willingly." He gestures at the room, taking in walls, ceiling, and floor in a graceful sweep. "He has sworn-- eh, that as soon as he is able, once the Palace will respond to him again-- and safely-- that he will fly this place back to the ice country. Back, eh, to the GoBack tribe." Delenbae shakes his head. ** No. That cannot be allowed. ** Ekuar tips his head to one side, curious. "Hm? Why not?" Delenbae sends openly ** There is no reason for those cousins of ours to take this place back there.. to make our Palace inaccessable. ** Delenbae sends openly ** We need it. We need to study it, to fix it.. to make it whole again.. so that we might one day leave this place.. ** Delenbae sends openly ** It is best here.. where those who use magic can study the Palace.. not wasted on trolls and Go-Backs. ** Ekuar chuckles. "Oh, my boy. The ice country isn't, eh, inaccessible. Even I lived there, as old and slow as I am!" He shrugs, good-naturedly. "What harm can it do to put it under the GoBacks' care? They will look after it well, and I'm sure that everyone will still be able to visit." Delenbae seems to be a bit agitated. ** But, it is.. if they wish to defend our Palace, let them come here. Why would they wish to live in that terrible place, if they have no reason to? Ekuar responds amiably, "Why does anyone live anywhere? A fondness for the land, and a familiarity. Eh, yes." He glances at the doorway again, and says with gentle wryness, "If you're wondering why the Palace must go back again... then perhaps you ought to ask Lursa. The warrior. Eh, me... She has been most... insistent about it." His eyes twinkle in their depths. "It is she who Rayek at last gave the promise to." Delenbae shrugs. ** I will convince her otherwise. The Palace must not leave.. it cannot be adequetely defended or studied there. ** Delenbae shrugs again. ** If it must come to blows, so be it. The Palace cannot leave. This is too important. ** Delenbae looks at you. ** Master, can you not see the wisdom in this? I only seek this for the good of our kind. ** Ekuar leans a bit forward, his tone gently curious. "Healer... one place in this world is much like another, I think. Especially these days, with so many beginning to travel so far, and meet one another. Eh-- I have to confess, I don't understand why violence, why pain and blame, would be the proper response here. The ice country is a fine place, no better than here and no worse. Mm. Only different." Delenbae shakes his head. ** But, the Mother of Memory does not live near the cold north.. neither does Suntop, or I, or Leetah.. or others with the desire and ability to use this Palace to finally free our kind from the prison of this world. ** Delenbae sends openly ** Lursa and I have been friends, in the past.. ** Delenbae sends openly ** This place belongs to all of our kind.. not the Go-Backs. ** Delenbae sends openly ** We have such an opportunity here.. ** His eyes meet yours, earnest. Delenbae seems to be pained suddenly.. Ekuar chuckles. "Dear Savah. She scarcely leaves the Village, you know that. Even when the Palace rests here. And the rest-- pretty Leetah, Suntop, anyone-- we can travel there." His eyes meet yours, earnest. "It still belongs to us all, no matter where it is kept." Delenbae shakes his head. ** Does it? It returns to the hands of trolls and magic-less elves. It is wasted there.. travel across this world is _ dangerous_. Or has everyone forgotten that? ** Delenbae sends openly ** Humans, animals.. ** Ekuar clicks his tongue. "Seems to me that it's as dangerous to travel here as it is to travel there." He smiles softly. "Perhaps you're worrying yourself over something that-- eh, in the end, is not as important as you think." Ekuar shifts, grasps his staff, and rises to his feet. He leans more heavily on the staff than usual, due to the twisted straps of the wooden leg. Delenbae sends openly ** At least we can feed ourselves here.. at least we only have to worry about invasions of Gliders, and not trolls. ** Ekuar says merrily, "Ah! But here, invasions of Gliders come and go, and no one stops them. But-- eh, the GoBacks keep the Trolls out pretty well, my yes. It's what they do, after all. They've gotten very good at it." He tips his head to one side. "You're awfully young, my dear, to fret so much over imagined terrors." Ekuar shuffles toward the door, with an amiable smile. Delenbae shakes his head. ** I know of terrors, than not even you have imagined, old Master. ** Delenbae sends openly ** And though I am not as old as you.. I have seen my share of endless turns. ** Delenbae shrugs, seeing his audience leaving. Ekuar regards Delenbae with a wise and kindly smile. "Then I'm sure you know also that sometimes, the best recourse is to choose your battles. Eh, not every small thing is the end of the world." He looks lovingly at the Scroll. "If the Palace is here... or there... who is to suffer, when all is said and done? Mm... I say no one. I say it isn't the tragedy you say it is, healer." Delenbae shrugs. ** It seems I have no choice. ** Ekuar stands easily against the wall next to the doorway, leaning on his staff, his gaunt face alight as he looks at the Scroll. He seems to draw peace from it-- not a peace born of ignorance of pain, but a peace from having come through pain and out the other side. "This is our home. All of us. Not something to struggle over, or fight with, eh? Don't let it cause you pain. Our parents would not like that, no indeed. It is to nourish our souls, not tear them down." Delenbae looks up. ** But.. it was all so close.. we could have done so much here..** Ekuar's tone is soothing, and kind. "And you still can. Nothing is ever ended, child. Especially not this place. Listen to it... eh, when it speaks to you, can't you feel that, deep inside?" He looks at Delenbae fondly. "You don't need to talk as if all is over." Delenbae looks around. ** But, it will be leaving. And the Master of this place has made it clear that he has no desire to have my assistance. ** Ekuar tsks, chiding gently. "Brownskin himself has said that he is not the Master here. Not really. Eh, no... Remember, it belongs to all of us. You, as much as he." Delenbae sends openly ** I call him master, for he has attuned himself to it. Perhaps there is no other so suited for the task. ** Ekuar looks around, his eyes lingering again on the Scroll. "He does love it, to be sure." His tone is wistful, and gentle, when he speaks of his pupil. "But, eh, that doesn't mean it is any less yours. Or mine, come to think of it." He smiles again, but his smile is faintly sad, perhaps reflecting his empathy at Rayek's torment. Delenbae shrugs. ** Perhaps I will travel to the north.. my plans were elaborate, to assist in the study of this place.. though I fear I will never be able to bring them about. ** Ekuar gives a quiet chuckle. "You're young. You have a long time, indeed, to do what you must do. 'Never' isn't real, eh?" Delenbae manages a smile. ** I know of patience, and I am far from young.. though from your vantage point I might seem so.. and never is real.. it is merely just very far away. ** Ekuar ahs, bobbing his bare, hairless head. "Indeed, indeed. I'm afraid everyone seems young to me, oh yes." His eyes twinkle. "But I have to disagree with you on one thing, my boy. Eh... I don't think endings ever come." Delenbae lifts his arms.. ** Endings do come, old Master.. the lives of those that now dwell as spirits here.. they ended. They can never be touched again.. not as before. ** Delenbae sends openly ** And our chance, at true happiness, ended the day our ancestors crashed here. ** Ekuar rests his hand on his slender chest, his smile deepening. "And there we disagree again, handsome visitor. My oldest friends are here... my dearest loves. Body or spirit? It doesn't matter, they exist." He nods. "And I have felt true happiness. Eh, yes. I needn't look to the past, to my parents' past, for it." His smile is merry-- it doesn't take away from the simple dignity of his words, but rather adds to them. Delenbae shrugs. ** I am a shaper, in things physical.. plants, elves.. All I know is body.. for endless turns I have studied body..** Delenbae closes his fist, as if trying to grasp something.. ** What good is some thing, if there is no way to touch it, to feel it, to change it if need be? ** Ekuar's tone is low and somehow gravely joyful: "That it cannot be touched does not mean it cannot be felt. And that it cannot be changed... eh, dear fellow. That is its greatest good." Ekuar draws in a delighted sigh, his eyes flickering to the Scroll again and then up to take in the grand surroundings, seeming to bask in the Palace's very presence. Delenbae nods. ** Perhaps. ** Ekuar's smile brightens, and he winks. "You have time and time, my boy! You're a shaper, yes, and so am I. And we both will come to learn of the other things, those things we cannot shape. Eh?" Delenbae nods. ** We can hope so, yes. ** Ekuar laughs. "Well. I do hope so, I do indeed. And maybe it's just the thought of an old fool, but I'll cling to it all the same." He looks at you with friendship. Delenbae nods. ** Perhaps we will speak again, old Master? ** Ekuar grasps his staff and makes his careful way across the chamber. When he is close enough, he props the staff against his side and reaches out to press his cool hand on Delenbae's arm. His smile is radiant. "Eh, I'm sure of it." Delenbae nods. ** I will look forward to that time, then. ** Ekuar bobs his head in agreement. He glances toward the door, as if considering again the long journey down the stairs... but instead he settles comfortably on the edge of the platform and rests for a time, his eyes gradually unfocusing as he falls into a reverie. [Rayek, in the meantime, has gone to the chamber he shares with the rockshaper, but either does not notice or does not care that he is followed...] Rayek's Chamber(#7481RFL) Spare of design, but smaller than many of the rest of the chambers of the Palace of the High Ones, this quiet nook is the place Rayek has appropriated for what passes as his rest. Like the rest of the Palace, it is a room of oddly rippling walls and ceiling and floor, a room where a flicker out of the corner of your eye might be a shadow -- or perhaps a lingering spirit. But there is little to relieve the starkness of the room save for a gathering of sleepfurs on the floor, and the perfectly prosaic light of torches in their shaped holders on the walls. Obvious exits: Corridor Tilia has arrived. Rayek stands, one hand touching the far wall from the doorway into the nook, head bowed. Tilia doesn't design to announce her presence, she simply appears. Tilia says with a start, "Since when did you bow to others?" Rayek turns his head slightly, enough to get a sense of who has arrived -- knowing, really, before she speaks. After all, he did spend over ten years attempting to commune with her formless spirit, to fly this place. "Does it matter?" Tilia leans again against the stone, touching it with a hand with a motion like fondness, though she keeps the same small, grating voice, "Do you think I could get you to bow to me?" Rayek turns, facing Tilia -- whom he owes, arguably, a larger debt than any single elf save, perhaps, Leetah -- with no change in the barrenness of his gaze. "Is that the atonement you wish of me?" Tilia frowns deeply. "No," she says, a simple deep word with dangerous undercurrents hidden somewhere beneath the surface. "I won't speak of atonement. Such an ugly sounding word, like from a brooding glider from Sorrow's End." Tilia says "You want to do this to yourself, I cannot bother to stop you. You've never stopped me, I've never stopped you." Rayek studies Tilia impassively. "You make it sound as if I am acting improperly, by trying to amend that which I have damaged." Tilia seems to almost smile, a familiar old fire in her dark little eyes that she never before enjoyed. "Since when have you fixed what you broke, blackhair?" The short maiden (or crone, but for her age) pats the stone wall and laughs a bit harshly. "The words are overly cruel for your soft pink sunwalker skin." Rayek crosses his arms, lips thinning to a narrow line. "Tilia... what do you want?" Tilia's jovialness closes up like large stone doors and she says in empassioned iciness, "More than you can give. You don't have what I want. But I will enjoy watching you /try/." Rayek, in an earlier time, might well have smirked, or given a bitter twist of mouth or voice. Now, he only says, flatly, "What shall I offer? My other cheek, for you to bruise to match what Lursa's struck? A limb to break? Or shall I work myself to a shadow to restore this place to the grandeur it once held?" He turns away. "Or shall I simply turn it over to you?" Tilia blinks, all at once coloured with excitement and paled with fear, large eyes dotted small with pupils. She stands there light a trapped ravvit for a moment, breathing hard, then turns and runs. Tilia steps out into the corridor. Tilia has left. [Shaken, stricken, Rayek numbly remains where he is, barely able to think of what to do next, until...] You sense in a locksend, Ekuar's mind hovers at a distance, respectfully, glowing with the familiar warmth of eights upon eights of mind-touches. ** Brownskin? ** You locksend ** ..........yes, Ekuar? ** to Ekuar. You sense in a locksend, Ekuar's thoughts approach, reordered from their usual amiably fuzzy state into something deeper... wiser... ** You know that I am with you, don't you? Whatever you must be. Whatever you must do. ** The confirmation is offered without hesitation. The question does not connote lack of certainty-- instead, it is asked as a lesson, master to pupil, father to son. You locksend ** I... Yes. ** to Ekuar. You sense in a locksend, Ekuar's mind eases back, softening around the edges, taking the weight of his ancient and powerful thoughts from your own weary soul. Before he withdraws the spark completely, though, there is a tingle... perhaps the mental equivalent of a caress, or even a tousle of the raven-black hair. -Here- it seems to say. -Always here, and glad to be...- Long distance to Ekuar: Rayek feels his throat tighten at that simple, single sending... feels tears threaten to sting his eyes, now that he is alone, now that no one can see. Unable to express how deeply he needs to know that someone, even if only one elf out of all those in the world, stands by him, he sends..... You locksend ** ** to Ekuar. Ekuar locksends ** ** [End log.]