The Now
Rohese reached up for the tome on the highest shelf and blew away the thin layer of dust. Carefully opening the cracked leather cover, she began to read the faded text within.
She had spent the last few days wandering the Halls of the Library Aies in search of anything that would reveal the nature of the meeks and give her an insight into the meaning of their correspondence. The bruises were fading on her arm but the scar tissue was a constant reminder of their desperate attempt to reach out for help and her recent encounter with Socius had made her more determined than ever to do just that.
The storybook she was now holding was a familiar one from her childhood. One story in particular resonated with her and she paused to reflect on its meaning. The tale of "Patience and the Lily" reminded her so much of her own story: one of hope and suffering, of love and loss. Patience's story could be her own. Memories of her family flooded her mind, both happy and sad; the smiles on their beloved faces still causing her heartache but she smiled as she thought fondly of them all.
Reaching into robes, she pulled out her grandmother's book and opened it to read the words inscribed on the inside of the cover.
| "Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal." |
Lost in thought, she didn't notice the room around her shift slightly, and the lines of the objects become slightly less distinct.
A voice spoke in her mind, whispering slightly, "Lady Rohese... this is a time of... correspondence. And opportunity..."
Placing her hand on her book, Rohese tentatively asked, "Who are you?"
"I am one of the meek... your thoughts have drawn me to you during this time of correspondence. I have prepared... an opportunity. Should you be willing to undertake it, I believe much good can be done."
Resting the fingertips of her right hand in the hollow of her throat, Rohese closed her eyes for a moment and quietly murmured an archaic elven orison. Feeling a little more settled, she nodded slightly and felt herself pulled away.
She opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. She found herself standing in a white marble atrium, with elaborately styled buttresses supporting the ceiling overhead, and brilliantly colored stained glass windows casting a kaleidoscope of rainbow hues across the single massive marble slab that served as the floor. The air was still and heavy with the taste of dust and time. At the far end of the atrium was a single archway.
The awe-inspiring beauty of the chamber was oddly comforting so Rohese took the opportunity to steady her breathing and prepare for what might lay ahead. Sensing her readiness, the voice continued.
"What you see is not what is, but a construct fashioned to help you comprehend what must be done. I have tunneled through, and will hold the way as long as I can, though time will be short. The Fallen will send obstacles, but I will assist as much as I can. In your memories, we increase correspondence. Proceed, Broken One, and know that we are with you."
Stepping tentatively through the archway, Rohese was immediately transported back to her childhood.
The Past
The first thing that struck her was the fragrant scent of herbs as she stood amidst a modest garden, carefully organised and in full bloom. Various herbs and brilliant flowers lay in neat rows and a delicate wrought-iron fence surrounded the entire space. Just beyond the fence, through a faintly glowing gateway, stood an indistinct pair of figures, hand-in-hand, watching her silently. The larger of the two seemed to be carrying a fishing rod, and the smaller one seemed to be rather thin. In that moment, the smaller figure raised a hand towards her, as if in greeting, but made no sound.
Memories of her mother overwhelmed her: the scent of her garden in full bloom, her smile thought lost to the years, and her strength as she fought the unwinnable battle against illness. Carrying that memory in her heart, Rohese simply walked towards the gate and whispered, "Mother?"
Her vision faded in a melancholy grey haze only to return with a sinking feeling.
The Near
The scent of lavender filled her nostrils again but this time it came with a wave of nausea. A pair of stone pots containing large plants in full bloom rested on either side of the wooden doors through which she had just stepped. The walls were painted a pale green, and the carpet underfoot was a complementary darker green with an intricate pattern of interlaced deep blue woven throughout. Her eyes were drawn to a large writing desk in the middle of the office and she knew immediately where she was. An indistinct figure in the background sighed and approached her.
"Does this space look familiar?"
Rohese nodded and suddenly felt the stares of an unseen crowd upon her. She felt her face blush hot with embarrassment. This can’t be happening again!
"This is the place where you almost broke."
Rohese's insides roiled and she felt a deep knot of pain in her gut as she relived the deep betrayal once more. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "That wasn’t justice!" She cried out, recalling the humiliation of Nehor's trial a few weeks ago.
"And what has justice to do with reality?" The figured stepped closer again. "You are not owed justice, Lady Rohese."
Retreating, Rohese quickly replied, "Justice is everything. It creates balance!"
"And do you believe you are entitled to it, then?"
The distinct sound of laughter drifted through the room and Rohese was certain it was directed at her. Struggling to maintain her composure, she glanced at the book in her hand and recalled the words of her grandmother once more. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.
Rohese cleared her throat. "Yes, everyone is entitled to justice."
"And when the world does not accommodate you... you turn and run. What is the right path when faced with injustice?" The figure’s words felt like a slap in the face causing Rohese to doubt herself for a moment but she quickly recovered. "To stand and fight, I know that now."
"Is every life truly worth saving?"
"Yes!" came her reply, without hesitation. Her grandmother's face filled her thoughts as if prompting her to continue. "Every life deserves a second chance."
The indistinct figure stepped even closer but she was still unable to make out the features enough to identify him although, in her heart, she knew... and she knew she still had a chance to reach out to him.
An indistinct figure asked, "Even one... such as I... who would turn from the light time and again?"
Somewhat reassured, Rohese nodded firmly and repeated, "Yes, forgiveness is everything."
"Then why... Lady Rohese... have you been unable to forgive yourself?"
Feeling her eyes burn as she attempted to hold back the tears, she finally set aside her long-held anguish and boldly declared, "Because I wasn't ready to do so but now I am. I know that I too am worthy of forgiveness."
“You believe that you are ready... that you can stand against injustice, and your own self-doubt, and be a force for good?"
Firmer in her resolve, Rohese stated, "I will do whatever it takes ... even if it means my humiliation again." Removing the white linen bandage from her arm, she exposed the elaborate mark marring her arm and brushed her fingers lightly over the scar tissue. Taking one final step forward, the figure placed an indistinct hand across the mark.
"Go forth, then, Lady Rohese. With open eyes, and a knowledge that you... matter."
Without even a backward glance, Rohese stepped through the small hatch.
The Present
Rohese found herself in a circular room of doors. The room was lit from above by a massive candelabra and each door was equally spaced from its neighbour. Each of the doors were slightly different in color and had a plaque set at eye height. The ceiling overhead was low, causing the space to feel cramped and confining.
A familiar voice whispered to her. You know what you know. You've seen what you've seen. You've been where you've been. You've lived what you've lived. Now go where you'll go. And remember your manners.
Clutching the book tightly in her hand, Rohese surveyed each of the doors, reading the plaques in turn.
"There is one, there is the other, and never the twain shall meet."
"What is, must always be."
"When the journey ends, there is no more."
"Who we are today is who we'll be tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is tomorrow, and its worries belong to it."
Rohese wished her grandmother was here with her. She would know what to do – which door to choose - but something didn't feel right. Is the path forward always so clear? It is never clear except when the path of righteousness is before you.
Closing her eyes, Rohese searched around and discovered a hidden door. Murmuring under her breath, "Remember my manners," she knocked tentatively on the door three times and watched it slowly swing open before her.
The Path
Ahead of her lay a long hallway, down which ran a plush red velvet runner with stylized golden patterns sewn into it. The walls were sturdy and high, and decorated with palatial tapestries of vibrant scenes. Interspersed along both sides of the runner were a series of small columns, each topped with a small figurine.
Rohese peered curiously at each in turn, noticing that when she touched them, they came alight with faint tendrils of essence. Noticing an elaborate plaque imbedded in the floor, she scanned the unusual phrase and pondered its meaning. “TVYUVW, WTWX, VTYUW, TZXX”
Touching a number of figures in turn, she suddenly felt herself pulled away again.
The Quiet
Surrounded by darkness this time, Rohese quickly realised where she was. There was almost enough light to see by but she was unable to tell where it originated from. Directly overhead was a matte black ceiling and a cool breeze blew through the area. Shifting shapes appeared against the darkness on all sides but their details were impossible to discern. One thing was clear though, Nazhor wasn't here but his book was. Glancing nervously around her, Rohese quickly picked up the book and noticed that the small niche in its center was empty.
"As you see, Lady... the Fallen has made a grave error. Keep this safe. When the Fallen realizes its absence, his rage will be terrible. Seek the crystal. When the two are joined, his ability to draw on the powers of the meek will be no more."
Rohese closed her eyes and nodded. I can do this!
"You are stronger than you have shown thus far, Lady Rohese. The time for self-doubt, fear, and mourning has past. The world needs your strength. Do not disappoint it."
Rohese softly echoed, "I am stronger and I will no longer doubt myself." Kissing three of her fingertips, she pressed them to her heart and felt the comforting presence of her locket beneath her robes.
Fading away, the voice whispered, "Of this, we have no doubt. Fare thee well, Lady Rohese. We shall be watching."
The New
Finding herself back in the Library Aies, Rohese glanced down to see both the Fallen's tome in one hand and her grandmother’s book in the other.
"I will always love you, Sighisoara but it's time I stood on my own two feet."
As the words left her lips, she noticed faint lines of text lifting from the pages of her book. Writhing around her wrists and climbing her arms, the elven script settled into position on her skin and began to dissolve into it. The vellum pages glowed for a moment and the book returned to its original state leaving Rohese gazing in awe at her hands.
Several voices echoed in her mind. Know that I am always with you, child. I love you, pixie. Be strong, Rohese, I am inordinately proud of you.
OOC: Having cracked GM Quilic’s evil cipher, Rohese got to run "The Gauntlet" last night as part of his amazing storyline and, as well as sharing her perspective of it with everyone, I wanted to add some context in terms of its "construction." I apologise for the length of the post but I was blown away by Quilic's grasp of Rohese’s backstory and the trauma she has experienced; it all manifested itself in the quest and I (as a player) would be a fool not to use it to further her character development.
Anyone who knows Rohese well, knows that she owns a "book." Whilst many copies have been made for public libraries and private collections, the book in her possession is essentially the original text as written by her grandmother.
The book is actually a palimpsest. Beneath the innocuous rhetoric on etiquette and protocol is a far more potent source of wisdom. Sahese Bayvel was in fact a powerful white witch who bequeathed her knowledge to Rohese in two layers. Initially, she passed on her insights into deportment and decorum through the basic text within the book but wished her granddaughter to also gain a wider understanding of the power she was capable of.
Having now experienced the full range of emotions in her short life, Rohese is about to embark on another journey – one which involves learning to access the effaced writing of the Codex Ista.
>>https://gswiki.play.net/Rohese_Bayvel-Timsh'l
>>https://gswiki.play.net/A_Healing_Process
