Prostrate Upon The Lap of Nature

[Aeolwyn Hy`lannad]

Aeolwyn had made the peaceful sojourn from Latherin's office toward the small cluster of homes, groping with his eyes, for a general clamour that might indicate the tavern. But something amiss stole him, something green as the days deem worthy, budding up like water from the lipid calm. He followed criss-crossing fingers of gently flowing water, trailing the path till most of his intentions seeped away, leeched from his steps, into the earth, where life would feed upon his doubts. It seemed that way at least, for a vacant smile became the young baijani, and without a word, he drifted beyond the emerald haunt, and into the leaf green fold. The fountain Latherin had spoke of permeated, ebbing itself forward in a dramatic parade of tranquility, heavy laden by druids gliding on the natural promenade, worshippers making silent offerings, and onlookers held thrall by the power of natural beauty.
Standing before the great book, his eyes wandered over this place, peering into a slow-coming nether; a sensation of peace. All was well here-- of that, he felt certain. Prostrate before the rising mound, Aeolwyn opened his vest and slide out of his tunic. Tying the arms around the waist, he turned the shirt into a cloth skirt of sorts, then for no obvious reason rose up and breathed a heavy sigh. Cool air kissed his gold flesh, and then in some panoramic state he straightened and stretched his arms out, almost looking as if he were groping through the air of this forested domicile. He felt irregular, even awkward, but he was alone in senses, and by his gaze, alone in his little space, for the most part. It was pleasant to have that personal release. The right to be strange, and go without judgement was a rare commodity. His thoughts were amusing and his thin lips twisted into smiles from time to time.
He whirled in absolution, longing to make some earthly connection with the ancient Telath - with the energy - spirits and dreams. More than anything, he longed to give an offering of dance to the primal world. To dream, and to venerate those feelings pure and sacred to the barbari hiding within.
His unflinching strides fleeted across the grassy tufts as if he were a phantom.
In the peaceful hours of dusk he embraced the air, lent himself to soft, flowing movements; some bearing striking resemblances to a dance. Gently caressing space, he traced archaic sigils into the night, moving to the hidden music in his memory, hypnotised to the flicker of shadows playing against the forest wall. Aeolwyn was a shimmering thing of bronze and brown; every movement made painted one shadow upon the ceremoniual mound after the other. Relevating on the tips of his toes he spun once, then hovered to the floor; pantheresque, he lowered to all fours in a feral manner then digressed to a dramatic opposite of prostrate calm.
His hands came up to sleek black locks that streamed down his back like a waterfall. With a leather cord he ensared them, tieing them into several fanciful serpents. His movements were slow, practically ceremonial. His serene expression seemed to bask, and it was coy pleasure that painted itself across his baijani countenance. He looked upon the bubbling fountain like a lover- like a suitor championing the affection of the coming twilight. Hands slithered down from a barbarians throat, unlatching a keepsake of family, and then slowly laying it at the foot of the grassy mound.
In the final moments of his ritual he felt reassurance swell inside him. The feeling was awe-inspiring, and he loved nothing more than to shed skin and dance for the lost places where ancients and spirits dwelled- where legends stalked, and where primal ethers flaunted their power. He was slave to their balance. There was one last thing to do. With care he fashioned a small altar out of dirt. In his travel pack was a single bowl, and from his own rations a honey comb. He set the offering away then danced back several steps. Kneeling in complete veneration. It was time to vibrate his presence. He meditated on the intangible feelings inside-- loneliness, displacement, and veiled apathy. He gave release to the emotions that whirled over him-- what the future of Jaedaxia would bring for his family, now that the Empire despised them. His mind replayed ancient songs, haunting drums, cooing flutes, and violent strings borne of a gypsy caravan. His thoughts became supple and alluring- or shifted to intensity and focus: dances upon the Jaedaxianne hillsides of en voi` resse with a childhood sweethart, Corra'nyan; Imperial forces siezing father Morrowyn and dragging pappa to the Refugee Camp.
He opened himself to an audience, and lent his ears to the sound of nature before he finally rose to begin the dance.
An offering, a dance, a ritual. It was a very spiritual practice, one that too few people performed amongst the prominent pantheons. The worship of the Aetherian gods was more 'sophisticated,' many would have claimed, than the sacrament Aeolwyn executed this evening, instead constituting a liturgy of prayers and pledges of devotion-- or int he recent case: alligience. No longer did people make offerings from natural inclination, or dance to revel in the glory of their deity. People deemed it primitive and tribalistic. Such ceremonies had been how heathenous barbarians worshipped their false gods, the rites of primeval cultures done in the worship of their heretic temples. Those savage, unsophisticated civilizations had all but been wiped out by the expansion of the Allerian Empire, and the dominion of urbanization that had come with it. Last of all of the primal, antediluvian peoples encompassed in the borders of Alleria had likely been the tribes of the Carmelyn plains, the Baijani and their viking-like predecessors simply referred to as Northern humans. Often the savage clans of Arkdun had proved a nuisance to the northern border of the Allerian Kingdom during its fledgling eras. Thus, with the conquest of the Medonian continent, those barbarians were either eradicated or tamed.

[Desmodus]

Whether Carmelya Herself was moved by the Baijani's offerings and celebrations remained to be seen, but one person, albeit not a divine one, had definitely taken notice of Aeolwynn's actions. Aeolwynn was mid-pirouette when the slim humanoid form rotated abruptly into view: should he stop to take notice, he would see that it was a male elf, green-clad, seemingly young, though that relative term probably encompassed more than a hundred patterns. His appearance was quite unexpected, and undetected, for he had crept up on the Baijani quite silently.

The elf did not stir from where he stood, perhaps four spear-lengths away as Aeolwynn whirled about to face him. If he was disturbed by the newcomer's antics, he gave no outward sign of it. Far from it, he gazed at the dancing stranger with a quiet, calm smile, and seemed content to await his next move. Apart from making his startling entrance, he made no move to disturb Aeolwynn's ceremony.

Lehan Y'las had been a druid long enough to know that the worship of nature took many forms; as far as he was concerned, any ritual offered to Nature in this Grove, unless it involve harming another living thing, would be satisfying and perhaps even pleasing to Carmelya. And what was pleasing to Her, the elf was content to accept.

[Aeolwyn Hy`lannad]

Aeolwyn danced to a frenzied pace, quickening as the moments fell by; drifting off the flower one petal at a time. Clumps of earth reached up to caress his toes, seeping sublime through his pores-- that pleasure might become hypodermal beneath the skin. Music never felt so clearly heard, beaming down from the bleary treetops above, where lances of the coming twilight crept in to dress the dancer in the shadows of leaf. Better than mothers violin, or the brother's drums. Aeolwyn breathed harder, quivered with blood coursing through his taut life-cords, and reached a total peak of ecastic dance. Motion was explosion, goaded on by the rapport din of natures touch, memory's music, and a long-overdue catharsis of the spirit.
The world had drifted out of order for him, and not that there ever was much of a semblance of order passing through his life, but even now, familiarity deserted him. While he surely enjoyed the travels made throughout the eastern empire in the name of work, independence continued to elude him. Father was an autonomous soul, quite compelled by his own will and his sense of loyalty, and dearest mother never had the tenacity to cling. She had enough daughters to let her second born son have his peace. His family wasn't holding him back. Jaedaxia's occupation was a brutal demonstration of Imperial order, and all the local inhabitants had something to worry about in these coming patterns of social and political transition. That was it!
Aeolwyn just worried about them. He had so thoroughly lived the life of a family unit, merely extended by his male role, but ultimately this taste of independence gave him an opportunity to look at his family from a less secure point of perspective. The kind of vulnerability he had been feeling on his journey wasn't like what you felt when an orc horde came to sack your city. He couldn't quite address the difference between Imperial occupation, and all-out occupation by an enemy. His father had worked so hard to become a citizen. Much of the last two eras had been a string of confusions, but now he was here in Acumin; the foot of a season-long journey back home to Jaedaxia.
How easy this place could be home-- the feeling of it. The soil was sweet smelling, for he'd nearly worn some of it in the last flurry of drunken ballet and elegant tribal stomp he was oft to mingle, but the soil; the ground was good, feeling the better part of tranquility against his bare skin. Aeolwyn felt like he had common ground with Acumin.
Drops of water had built to a crescendo, turning the symbol of a lilting stream into the memory of tempered drums, while a birds call sung of siren flutes, both seamlessly intertwined to the count of his unorthodox gyrations and stomps. What was once a flowing and opulent splash of dance pouring out before the green shrine, had now become a heady and sweat-drenched thrashing of revelry and the honoring of life. Eyes closed in saintly poise, while arms spread out, unfolding a winged son of the earth, and from the bellows up came a punchy stream of lyrical play intoned with a velvet decibal.
"Oooooh - It's a rough call.
It's a tough call.
But hope is always there when you're just about to fall.
I will praise life--
With my body and soul,
'Cause the heart percieves the mind--
Lift my head up high.
Never be afraid;
Never give up hope,
'Cause life is always there when you're just about to faaaaaaaaah!"
Suitably off guard, Aeolwyn had brushed something, and blinked his eyes open suddenly. The music evaporated like the rustle of leaves on the wind, and like a fething ghost, an elvish omen had found its way into his line of sight. The baijani shook his head and chuckled, then politely brushed some earth clumps off his shins and presumed to straighten himself in order to greet the elf. "Vedui`," he said softly, a little uncomposed, and having exhausted his elven. He still smiled though.

[Desmodus]

The elf smiled back benignly at Aeolwynn. If he found the baijani's antics either ridiculous or disturbing, he gave no sign of it. "Vedui," he greeted back, his voice calm and warm. "Do not be alarmed. You are welcome here in Carmelya's grove, as long as you come as a friend of Hers." He nodded his head and bowed ever so slightly. "I am Lehan Y'Las, the Master Druid here. The brightening finds you well, I hope?"

The elf's expression turned serious for a moment as he looked the strange human up and down, and Aeolwynn got the distinct impression that he was searching him for wounds, or some other sign of affliction. Apparently finding none, however, Lehan at length looked back at the visitor's face and smiled again. "I have heard of those who worshipped Carmelya with such...boisterous song and dance; however, they are supposed to live far away, and I have never seen one. Until now."

He did not elaborate, but fell silent at this point, standing there tranquilly before Aeolwynn, smiling at him with unalloyed and seemingly unguarded kindliness. It was obvious that he was waiting to see what Aeolwynn would do next.

[Aeolwyn Hy`lannad]

OOC: Discontinued