A Childhood Lost | Zyon (Open)

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

Whenever she had made the long journey from The Temple of Zyon to what had become her home, she had always walked. Her feet had laid the path along the Long Road to the safekeeping of The Heart. When she had decided to return to Zyon to renew herself along the path, she had walked in penance for where she had allowed her feet to walk along the Long Road. It was the weight of that journey and the months after she spent back in the Temple that had caused her to then return once she was sure she had been purged of the sadness and doubt upon her soul. It had always been this way with Andraste, walking like a wanderer might, seeking solace from the open air and the quiet contemplation of silence. This time was different...

And so, she had made her request and Lucy had granted it -- porting her from The Bastard to The Temple of Zyon. It lowered the distaste for the feeling to have someone she trusted to do it. It had likely seemed as an odd request, Andraste had often been vague on what the place meant to her and why. Despite her hating porting, she now stood before the stairs that would take her into the main part of the Temple. She had left most of her normal things at the Obsidian Heart Inne, knowing nothing would happen to her here -- her home. It was such, she came walking upon the temple with her feet bare, her form embraced with the violet and golden attire that one of the artisans who had visited the temple had created for her. He said in the depths of those eyes, he had found a muse. She wore the color still, the symbols along the face-piece hid her face from above her nose, though it did nothing to hide the sensual curve of her neck, the soft slope of her face, her soft lips that begged something she would never understand from those who watched it move. Her shirt had been designed with the same thing in mind, wrapping about her upper-body seeming firm, but indeed simply laid upon her skin like a soft embrace. The wrappings around her arms two-fold in their purpose. They gave her little protection, but moreseo it kept the unexpected touch from laying along her skin, causing her discomfort. The staff upon her back peace tied as was custom, not even hesitating as she knew she’d never have want for a cause to draw it within the embrace of this holy place.

It was so she came into the main area of the Temple, taking a deep breath at the familiar scents and smells, in the feeling of The Six being close. Her faith had often been tested, and while it hadn’t in recent times – she still felt the need to come now, to seek answers she could not possibly know what they meant. Each of The Six had their own alter, and to each she went with her staff upon her back only there for a symbol of her strength, even if it was for herself.

It was the alter to Braman she came first. It seemed fitting… even as she whispered the prayer words to it: “Come to me, Braman, for without you, there is neither breath nor beginning, nor can any man live, love, or learn without the spark of your spirit.” She lowered herself onto her knees, sitting back on her heels. The position she took was a submissive one, her heels under the curve of her body, her back was bent slightly at the shoulders, evenso her spine curved in a poetic way that bespoke of the control she had. Her arms were relaxed, though her hands lay on her bare thighs, just above her knees – palms up, relaxed, as if offering and acceptance. Her face was peaceful, though it was difficult to tell with it half covered, accepting her place upon their will. “Lord, I hope you shall always bring me into your truth, that your light shine into my soul, pushing out the darkness of thoughts and the impurity of the path I may walk upon. I have had nightmares, Lord… and if it is you who wishes to make my sleeping mind hear what my waking ears will not, please make your will known to me soon.”

It was after the plea was made, hushed on her breath, that she removed herself from the pose, lifting onto a single foot before rising with shocking ease and grace, fluid and lithe. Her head remained bowed for a moment before her head lifted… to the next alter.

Her voice was hushed as the words of prayer came from her once more, "Come to me, Diti, for without you, like a child, I might fiddle and fret, when only through struggle and labor may I craft a work worthy of your name and the name of my patron.” And so, she lowered herself into the pose once more, her shoulders lifted and rolled to remove the tension in them before she came to pray to this deity as well. “Forgive me, Diti… for I often forget that your will is concrete within me as well. It is through your strength that I find the strength of will under my feet. The foundation beneath me has been unsteady. I ask you to find a way to make it solid once more, so that I can become as solid in the struggle for you.”

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    While Logen had impeccable timing, there probably wasn't a soul alive or dead that would call him the answer to one's prayers. He had grown curious of Andraste's pilgrimage and coaxed the location out of Lucy. She even went so far as to 'port him there at the entrance of the pantheon. His arrival sounded much akin to thunder rolling in the distance, though what stood out was his steps as always. His feet, heavy in gait, clicked heels down to echo the chime of spurs throughout the resonance of the Temple. Immediately, she'd know who was approaching.

    The impious bastard from the North. There wasn't a bent knee or a gaze of awe-struck penance. It's not that he didn't believe in the Gods, it's that he saw them as equals or lesser. He had been through trials and tribulations and as far as he was concerned, none of them were worth worshipping as he himself was not. Each visage of the celestial beings got a once over, with a smug grin on his face as if challenging the beings to awaken and approach. He defied the world and it's creators. And he'd do so beyond death.

    His demeanor and presence wasn't appreciated by the zealots and monks that resided within the temple. They knew the man to be a murderer and anarchist within Zyon's lands. He was known to strike down any and all that opposed him and knew he did so without remorse. They just didn't know why, the motivation, the vengeance, the war that Hector and company had brought upon themselves. So the deeper he stepped within, the more nervous and retreating they had become. Some undoubtedly moved off to alert some authority, perhaps a vindicator of the Six. Their fear made him grin but did not deter him from continuing.

    Upon arrival to his target, he came to a stop behind her kneeling form. His hands remained at his sides in their half-curled position as if he was ready to make a fist and strike at any time or worse still, retrieve the Wolfblade. And that was just his casual pose. With her silence, he assumed she was done with her prayers and so spoke to her...

"Piety does not become you, Shark Bait. (Oo-ha-ha)" The grin on his face turned into a slight smirk. He might have had a comment about her being on her knees, but he liked the blind warrior and seer. He didn't want to rut that to mud.

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

There were a great deal of things that one could say in regard to Logen. His timing was either for his benefit or ill for others, dependent entirely on the situation. Or at least she had found. It didn't bother her, as she felt the stir of energies around her changing.

As always, there was a tug. She wouldn't consider it a trained thing so much as a pull he naturally inflicted upon her. Even that seemed wrong but she had no further words to possibly hope to describe it. Her head lifted from the bowed stature as he grew closer, listening to his approach. The energy around him sizzled and spoke of power, perhaps not unlike the ones the alters stood at. But perhaps that made her devout to another... though the thought was wrong. She silently asked Kanesh for forgiveness for her transgression against her, not that she expected it to matter. The Mother of Shadow truly did not seem to be bothered by such things.

At the jest in his words, she smirked -- she couldn't help it. Of course he would think it didn't become her, what she hadn't decided was what he thought would. Maybe he didn't even know. She shifted her stance to bring her heels free of her form, her foot arching to place solid upon the floor before she rose herself up. It was graceful, careful, practiced. In this, it was as much a way of her as the dance she practiced every time the sun rose and fell. She was a ritualistic type, her routines her foundation.

"And what, Wolfsbane, do you think would become me better?" She had half expected him to make a jest at the way she had submitted to the will of the deities. He always continued to surprise her. "I grew up here, a ward of this place. Are you surprised to find I am devout in such?" She doubted that too. He was too observant. He had been around her to see that she carried a faith in which he did not share. It didn't matter to her though, she carried the same for others that people did not understand. The man in front of her amongst those things.

She knew then, with no great shock, that Lucy must have told him where she had went. It wouldn't have been hard for her to do so and she would hardly blame the woman, she hadn't gone in secret. And so she awaited his judgement -- what did he think she was meant to be? In truth, she knew what she was, though she knew it to be so it didn't mean he did. What had another whispered to her? That power could be hers if she only reached for it.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

She posed two questions to him. The first, his mind fell to the violence and darkness within her. He knew her to be more capable than just a servant to the exalted ones. She could put her skills and time to better use than bending knee and offering prayers. The second made a contradictory thought push forward, as the loyalty and fealty to the place that saw her raised, safe and abled. A confliction in responsibility and will. But he was impious and so the renegade won out in the argument in his mind. As she stood before him, he studied her frame and form and simply smiled upon end of appraisal.

“For one that sees the crossroads all too often, I find it hard to believe that you don’t see the same as I. But perhaps you travel down each one, choosing a different path each time that leads to the same destination… A warrior in the dark, seeking something worth fighting for with the guidance of the Gods interweaving your path with tests and tribulations…” Words fell from his lips in that low tone for her ears alone… At least that was his intent, how his voice carried throughout the temple was beyond his control for the moment. “We all wander, curiously at times and then aimlessly at others… Perhaps that’s how I prefer to see you… On your feet, seeking out the world… To view what your gods created rather than spend time cooped up in the roost, grateful that it simply exists.”

“But I will leave you to your prayers if you wish for the solitude… I’d rather invoke the wrath of your gods than raise your ire..”

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

Standing at the crossroads, time and time again... It was the first time in her life she knew consistently which path she would take. She didn't need to see the alters and the place to know what he must have thought. He was not like her in her faith, it was not something she frowned upon. Rather, she felt it was a requirement for the paths to grow forward for others.

"Kanesh, all others care not for me... I am but another who whispers their prayers." It was a simple thought that exited her mouth rather than being filtered first. It didn't happen often, but now and again it did. She measured herself then, taking a moment to pull herself together. There was no one listening to their words to care, or at least the stir he had caused made them consider other things instead. Like, how Logen was in their midst. The buzzing happened in her head, they were like bees in the hive. He was not wrong...

"You are not wrong, my path has led away time and time again. And each time, I have gained knowledge from it. Each time I recognize that soon, my path will not circle back to the only true home I have known." She lifted her chin, as if she was studying the holy place through her eyes. Blind to the sight of it, she could still feel it pulse with the Gods, or perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps, truly, it was simply the faith of those around them. Her mouth pulled in thought, shaking her head softly before she lifted her hand. "Let us go... it is symbolic, nothing more."

She didn't wait for him to follow, she knew he would likely stride out much faster than she did, his legs gave him the advantage in that. Rather, she kept a measured pace, much like when she left -- Andraste went with purpose. She lowered her head to those proper as they went, keeping her silence until they were far beyond. Her features were still as they made their way.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    He had followed her here not to goad her in her faith, but to see what she had called home... To assess what type of person she was in the comfort of her youth, her origin. It just so happened that the Northman had a tendency to be an ass to everyone. So when she suggested they leave, he frowned at the matter but didn't sit sullied on it. He took two steps back to impede her retreat from the temple, using his torso to stop her in her tracks. On instinct, he took her by the hips and settled her in her posture to stand before him.

    "Can we not linger..? Show me the places you learned your art? The places of quiet reprieve you sought out in your struggles?"

    He struggled some times to make it apparent, but he wasn't accustomed to speak on how feels. He had been a rough and cut type of man most of his life with only a few to know his gentle nature.. The courteous side, humane and caring. He had not been afforded the niceties of eased society. He's always been depended upon to be the cold-blooded man that got what was needed to be done. And as she seemed to have all the patience in the world, he knew he could drive the devout to insanity.

    But he was giving way to that nature of his. He wanted to know... To see her world from the beginning as he had tried to show her the world as it is in traversed presence. She had the ability to show him, teach him of her start... Something he could not do for her because unlike her, he wasn't of this world.

    "Please... I'll be on my best behavior and won't cause a ruckus." Hopefully, the denizens of the temple allowed him the distance to remain neutral in the matter.

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

In her haste to set aside the conversation, she never considered the fact he might actually want to know anything about the place. It was so when he blocked her path she stilled before he even placed his hands upon her hips. Given the intimate contact, she shivered under his palms, her head lifting towards him as she tried to read his intent. Of course, he gave it to her – wishing to learn about where it was she came from. It was a difficult path to tread, to open one’s history to another. There was trust there that must be granted, deeper trust than simple chats over warm drinks shared.

“Indeed, if it pleases you… I hadn’t…” She paused in the thought, taking measure of him and his interest in what he requested. It was a simple matter, in the end: did she wish to share with him or not? Many other’s she would have dismissed and shut the door on. “Yes, we can linger.” She said a little firmer, reaching to take one of his hands off of her hip, enough so she could guide him with her, holding his wrist in the palm of her own hand. The contact was intimate in its own nature. “I have faith in your ability to behave, at least slightly.” She smirked as she took him further into the main area where she had been praying.

She knew he wouldn’t care for any of the others, he would only want to know what was important to her. Thus, she took him first to the alter for Kanesh. She stopped there, dropped her head a moment before she turned towards him. “This is the alter to Kanesh. She is the Mother of Shadow and I am her patron.” Andraste let the statement sink in for a moment before she continued. “I am her weapon… she casts me into the shadow to remove that which does not belong there. Most are afraid of her, she represents death and shadow… I do not feel that way about her, however. She is the only Mother I have known. When love and light cast me out… it was darkness that took me in.” There was a rueful smile that was placed there. “I was born without sight, I’ve lived in darkness, it is my belief it was part of Kanesh’s bidding.” It was that statement that made her pause in it, her face a mask for whatever emotions passed under it. One could guess, but they would likely be wrong.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Consideration of her choice was made as he followed after her to the shrine of the deity she served. When he came to stop, he studied the idol and altar. A quick suction of air through teeth occurred behind perked lips. His impious nature slipped out just a wee bit but that's what he was. While Andraste believed she was cared after by such faith, Logen saw it as ridiculous.. But it was knowledge about her that he wanted and filed it away to keep in mind in his dealings with her.

    He had some knowledge, some insight to the deities of the world as their canon had become important in investigations before. He knew Kanesh well enough but didn't think it was necessary to inform her. He wanted her words, her explanation, her revelation of self more than he wanted to offer comment. His need to offend waned as parts of himself were tied to shadow and death... It wouldn't be a far-fetched argument that he himself served well to the Mother without held affinity. For the most part, he was far likely to be a tool of the gods without knowing his role. But if you asked him, he'd shake his head and laugh for his faith in keeping his own destiny under his own will.

    After her explanation and his study, he finally set his gaze upon Andraste with brows risen in questioning nature. Tongue slipped over his lips akin to a viper, quick and gauging of the world around him. His words to escape were almost filled with a venom, but he maintained to control himself. A hesitation and turn of cogs in his mind occurred before he spoke to her.

"So your duty to her is to seek out the impure shadows and see them returned to her..?" If that were the case, Andraste needed to visit the Scarred Lands and quickly.

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

It was not truly uncommon for Andraste to get those who did not view The Six as she did, especially in her devotion to Kanesh. She was a harsh Mistress, she'd be the first to admit, but it didn't change her path nor the fact it was the only true one she had ever known. While each of the Six played a part in the every day lives, it was Kanesh who held her within her arms. Though, with his reaction, Andraste listened and gauged his interest as he stood there. The temple buzzed around them still, it was distracting but not entirely impossible to ignore. While she could understand that he did not share her faith, she wouldn't have blamed him if he had more questions or thoughts than he shared, she was surprised to find that he only offered her one question.

It deserved a good answer, it was because of that she took her time. The silence between them filled with a great deal of communication that didn't happen with words. Her jaw tightened a fraction, a look she often got when she was concentrating on something to explain. How did one explain that their deity spoke through shadow and vision rather than often words? She reached along the alter, stroking the stone for a moment before her hand fell away and she turned her profile towards him.

"Aye, to a degree. Some shadows are made in Kanesh's likeness -- they are true to her will, those remain in place. Some shadows, however, are made without the balance and need to be struck down. It is so that she grants me the way to see... casts me out to catch them and put and end to them. Kanesh is also death, some things are meant to return to her embrace."

It would explain a great deal about her warrior's path along with her devotion, though she was willing to expect that Logen might not share the thought. Though, she was interested to see how he might respond. It drew her features softer, anticipating, eager for his words. As much as she maintained a neutrality that others could not hold to, his voice and thoughts drew at her -- formed and ache of the desire for knowledge. The thought caused a coloring along her cheeks, though otherwise she simply waited.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    "My people... have stories of such a celestial being who once was demanding of the same." He would nod in accord with what was requested of her. His loss of home, ties severed from the Nation played part in his lack of faith. Perhaps the 'truth' that he knew of Gods and Goddesses disallowed him to think much of those upon Arith. "In the beginning, the celestial was responsible for death and decay, a protector of shadows... Until she was driven mad by her sister..." His words spoke softly in solemn tone as he shared this conversation with her. He didn't speak of his origins, ever, as they were a place lost to him. As far as he could tell.

    "With her madness came corruption and through the pair of sickness, creatures worldly and naught wrought havoc upon my home... And so her mother gave those responsibilities to my people... Seek out the perversions of death and decay, of shadow and spirit and set them rested, back to the mud, back to the heart.." He stepped forward, coming to stand perpendicular to her as he gazed upon the altar to Kanesh. And while his eyes reflected defiance, there was still a respect for a creature that took on the yoke of what a nation struggled with.

"You are blessed to have such a goddess with a mind not crazed and desires pure. My people grow weary, and ever still I imagine, doing the work that was laid at their feet. No doubt you'll have your own weariness... I hope I might relieve you of some moments.." Finally, he turned to face her, hands resting at his side as he watched her expression.

Did he just...speak appreciatively of her faith? A kinship unknown?

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

Her face grew more interested and she spoke of his own people. The tilt of her head caused her hair to fall along her shoulder and her features to catch differently in the light. As he stepped closer to the alter, she grew still, focusing what her senses could upon the man. He was an unique set contradictions... he was not pious himself, but he seemed knowledgeable, which rare. He had taken the time to learn, his lack of faith was in his own intelligence. That she could respect without desire to for withholding.

When he spoke of her own Goddess in turn, her lips parted with some display of quick breath. "The path often grows dark..." And with it so did her mind, her soul, it grew heavy. She could feel him watching her, as she often did when he set that steady gaze upon her. Memory flashed to when she had glimpsed him in the vision of his own future. Her voice drew quiet, almost a whisper to him in their proximity, it was easy to be missed by ears passing by, "You have a way of stripping me bare that I am not accustomed to. I have seen your eyes, I know their power. Now and then I feel you set that upon me, I wonder what you see reflected." It seemed a reflection of thought, her face relaxed in response to the questions that floated there without being named. She wet her lips, trying to find some course of action that could take her away from that statement, how she could distract him from lacking in the filter.

"Would you like to see the Soul Garden? It is where I spent most of my time when not here. Especially once I was old enough to understand that my path was not meant to be here alone..." The color that had set in from her betraying thoughts still hadn't completely left her features, but she seemed to find some sort of calm in it.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Sight could betray those with the ability to see. The importance was what someone felt when they cast their eyes upon an image. So while he couldn't show her per se, he could at least give her a glimpse as to what the reflection did. He would turn to face her, closing the distance as he rounded about. One hand reached up, loosening the laces of his surcoat and shirt underneath. His hands would then work in unison, taking her by the wrists at first and then guide both to rest upon the side of his neck and then feel in at his chest.

    He wanted her to feel the warmth of life that flowed through his veins, each pulse carrying his strength throughout core and limbs. To ride the breaths of air that filled his chest in natural movements, raising and falling as he stood there at rest before her. Once she had been anchored, he reached for her hips, pulling her closer in to breathe in his musk, fresh from a morning wash and salted by the breeze of the ocean. An accent to feel him, to step into his boots while he stood there content in watching her.

    It was the best way he knew how to answer her curiosity, standing in silence with her gathering what insight she could garner from the connection. After a while, he would speak thinking she had gathered enough but his tone didn't carry an ending request nor did he move to draw away...

"I would love to know more.. See more about you."

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

She thought perhaps he would leave her question alone, though he continued to surprise her. His sudden closeness caused her head to rise towards him, the presence he projected filling her senses so it almost drown all else out. The sound of him, the laces being loosened, confusion crossed her face a moment before he came to take her hands. She didn't fight his guiding, simply allowed it before he placed her hands strategically upon him.

The first thing she noticed likely wasn't what he would expect, the texture of his skin upon his neck to his chest, each in turn. It was a fleeting thing though, the next was the feel of his pulse, it was with that she was focused as he brought her closer still. As she drew breath, she listened to his own and feeling it drawn under her hands. She stayed there a long while, others who might look upon them were ignored completely as the woman simply followed the line of thinking he had brought her upon.

The silence grew between them, though it wasn't to say that truly either were silent in it. There was a great deal of communication that could happen without words or suggestive action. Her cheeks colored, her mouth parted, her own breathing grew slightly more rapid in response. She shivered, trembled a moment before her thumb moved along his pulse in an answer to what she thought of it. Strong, steady was the man -- so was his pulse. The rise and fall of his chest. Everything about Logen seemed controlled in a natural way that caused her a degree of envy. It was along those same lines, the silence between them that she lifted his hand, bringing it to her own neck. The collar short enough he could feel the same along the curve of her long slender form, arched as she faced up towards him. She left the silence still -- allowing it to grow between them as he measured her as he had granted her the access to him. If she was more demanding, she may have reached up to close his eyes, giving him a glimpse into her own world. She didn't, she simply stroked where invited, absorbed the masculine scent that was his own, unique in every way.

She had ignored his statement until some time, her tone still low to stay between only the two of them. "You have made me no longer wish to be here at all." It was an honest statement, especially from the normally devout Andraste. But she parted her lips in a shuddered breath. "...but I want very much to share with you..." Others had no desire to see the sights and experience what she had. In this, he gave her a gift that was priceless, living out her memories for another to enjoy, rather than her own introspection. She still didn't move, though both impulses were there -- go or stay? She couldn't decide, trapped into this state, filled with thought and feeling. It was the feeling that got stuck... short-circuited her brain.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Her hesitation brought about something with the Northman. Perhaps it was that instinct to press the advantage when he felt he had it.. The predator within his blood, his heritage. She was caught up, undecided as to whether to move on or remain in his clutch, gracing his own flesh with the touch of her hands. His eyes drifted shut, complying with her urge to share in the darkness... To focus on her breathing, her pulse. Every aftershock of a tremor that escaped from her will, he felt.

    And it brought something forward... To the surface from within the Bastard.

    In the moment of a breath, Logen's hands captured both sides of her neck and he pushed... Not with his arms, but with his body. He stepped forward, forcing her back to be braced against the altar of Kanesh. There between the Bastard and the Dark Mistress she'd find herself caged. His hips pressed against her, trapping her body to stand before him and in the shadow of Kanesh. His lips, raiding in true fashion, pressed against her mouth in a fierce kiss.

    It was dominant, powerful and greedy in application. He trapped her lower lip, pulling the flavor of moisture from her mouth while his hands kept her head tilted and jaw angled open. Still in the darkness they shared, he took what he wanted in that strong embrace. If her breath was lost, he didn't wait patiently for her to catch it before he spoke one simple command...

"Show me."

[Andraste Longo-Drom]

There was an answering call that came when he pressed her back, caught up in his presence, she wasn't aware until the chill of the alter pressed against her in return. Then, she was trapped. Her body betrayed her, aching and shuddering in response to his dominate and telling actions. Between her Mistress and the one who was stealing her breath away, she was trapped and unwilling to change her course. Shadow and heat. The two called and pulled, ensnaring her into the embrace that caused her to respond.

He was raiding, powerful, greedy... she answered it in softening, opening, submitting to his will. It took her by surprise how easy it came, as if it was natural from her as breathing. He stole her breath, he returned it with warmth, giving in return to the taking even if it wasn't his meaning. Her had manipulated her directly where he wanted her, and she couldn't find it in herself to get cross with him on it. She was too busy trying to swim through the riptide she had no business even attempting to do anything but ride.

At last, his words broke the spell... the command chilled her flesh and forced her to obey. She bit him. Her teeth sinking into his soft lower lip with a tug, letting him know that she was free of his spell, at least for that short while. "...Kanesh would like you." She responded, pressing him back away from her a touch so she could slip out between he and Kanesh's alter. She felt branded by both, it caused a tremble to move back over her form before she reached to take his hand, leading him away from the temple proper towards where she spent a great deal of her time. The Soul Garden was one of her favorite places in all of Arith, to share it with another, to share it with him.

"Tell me how you see it when we come to it, it interests me to know what others see in respect to how things feel to me." The walk was not overly long, especially when your strides were as long as the Northman's, but she purposely made them take their time. She wished to linger longer in his presence, if she rushed through the sights, she would lose out in getting the enjoy him.

Logen was not the only one who could be greedy...