< atton revisited > The information page for Atton has been fully revised and updated with the new map!
< updated calendar > The Fortuna calendar has been updated in the "Other" lore section! This includes a document which displays the calendar for you to see, making it much easier to understand.
< moving map > The first functional map has been released in the News section! This map is also interactive, allowing you to drag and drop between points in order to determine distances. This is the first iteration, and there's more and better to come!
< first annual awards > The results for the First Annual Fortuna Year-End Awards have been posted! Go and take a look at who the finalists were, and who took home the big prizes!
< new default skin > Our new skin has passed the beta test, and is now the new Default for the forums! If you have any issues with this skin, send a PM or Discord to Mellie.
< human lore update > Humans have been updated with TWENTY-FIVE subraces/subcultures which add numerous options, and a little extra lore and flavour.
< magic lore update > Magical Lore has been enhanced with the addition of a post on Magical Education. From Beginner to Expert, this is how you learn the spells.
< a change to member groups > Member groups are now based on storyline! You can change your displayed storyline by editing the settings in your profile.
Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
This particular tome, pages molded by time and littered with off-putting debris, seemed to have come from stretch of time (or some particular jaded author) that had no love for the lightborn.
Though convinced their path in life is destined, the lightborn are often seen to be self-serving creatures. Sunborn are arrogant and cold; as detached from mortalkind as the sun itself hanging in a distant sky. The starborn; airheaded and changeful, constantly presuming their inconsistent advice on others. The moonborn, perhaps the worst of the three races, are fickle and cruel, enacting what they claim to be the Gods’ Judgment on undeserving innocents.
With an incredulous huff, the frosty-haired woman shut the book, the thrrrump of the fall of heavy pages echoed through the silent walls of the library, earning a squinty glance from the prowling librarian.
Neyela shoved that one aside.
Seeking something perhaps a bit more recent, pale eyes danced over the dozen or so titles stacked in a crescent around her chair; The Study and Exploration of Moonborn in Peaceful Society, The Research Journal of W.H. Longfolk (An Inspection And Analysis Of Lightborn DNA And It’s Use In A Modern World), the trio of books, which read more like fiction novels, Seeking Sunborn, Meddling with Moonborn, and Snooping on Starborn (this final one had a number of reviews printed on the back sleeve; one in particular naming it ‘the most touching love story of our time’).
Her gaze faltered on a slim, boring-looking text; grey, with blocky silver letters which crawled up the spine: Lightborn.
”Lightborn are the puppets of the gods walking a mortal plane, the eyes and ears of their whims with all the freedom of mortalkind,” Neyela whispered the words, only the ‘s’ sounds travelling farther from the nook she’d built for herself of curious studies, towering volumes, and titillating titles, ”They are burdened from youth with paths destined, yet bear no cross so heavy as the ones they build themselves – “
“Shhhhhh!” Spat the librarian, who had, with feline ears, heard the enduring hisses of her muttered speech.
“Sorry,” she murmured, but lilac eyes left the pages of her book only for the barest moment, enraptured.
Post by Endless Laeretti on Mar 25, 2017 21:48:00 GMT -7
Endless Laeretti was a twisted ball of bitter resentment, confusion, frustration, and loss. These past few days had been spent more or less hating every moment of being awake. He'd found himself unable to sleep properly; sleeping had never been an issue for him before, never a thing he even thought twice about. But then Lila had to put it in his head that he wasn't even supposed to need it. His kind was supposed to be able to just meditate the fatigue away. Endless had never meditated a day in his life that he was aware of, and to the best of his knowledge, he had always slept just like the rest of his family had.
For a day or so he dared to hope that maybe this meant she was wrong about him. Except that now, with it constantly on his mind, with him always conscious of it, he found he could no longer sleep when he tried to. His thoughts remained too active, too busy. He would lie still, focus on just trying to rest, forcibly even out his breathing, thinking that maybe if he simulated sleep he'd finally fall asleep properly. But he had yet to succeed. And yet despite that, he found that he still felt rested after these attempts. He supposed that what he had been doing could be called meditation. And it appeared to be working.
He hated this.
Memory was a burden he didn't think he'd mind bearing. He had convinced himself that no matter what painful things might be in his past, it was important for him to remember it. He didn't want to choose ignorance. Oh how wrong he'd been. Memory brought with it knowledge. Knowledge of a time spent in the Feywild with Tehodis. Knowledge of Rill, the fairy boy he'd developed feelings for, the fairy boy who had helped Endless to rescue Tehodis and had paid dearly for it. Rill was probably still locked away even now, given how time moved in the Feywild. He was still suffering because of Endless. Endless also remembered his encounter with the great, god-like bird that had chastised him. The bird that had promised to sweep away the fog he was locked behind. The bird that had forced Endless to realize the consequences of his actions, and his responsibility to correct them.
Was it perhaps Haelrin that had made him forget? A last, petty move against him and Tehodis, to rob them of their memories so that Endless wouldn't remember the lesson that that bird had tried to impart on him? It seemed so obvious now. Lila had explained it well enough. That bird was the Xinrra. Servant of the goddess Khades. Khades who Lila claimed had chosen Endless, had more or less brought Endless into this world. Khades who was, in a sense, his mother, which only made Endless angrier because he knew who his mother was. His mother was dead. His mother was a woman who gave up everything to protect him. As far as Endless had known for most of his life, the gods weren't even real and yet now he was supposed to accept that one of them had a great divine plan for him? Some task to use him for?
It was a lot. And it made him mad. Bitter. Bitter at Tehodis, too. Tehodis, the girl Endless had tried so hard to save from the fate she was about to resign herself to, in Haelrin's palace, the girl who was the only other person who might share in the experience and help Endless cope with it all. But she didn't want to remember. She had chosen ignorance. She had left Endless alone to bear the burden, and now she was back in Submiere with the asshole who had cost her an arm.
Endless wanted to not be mad at her, but he couldn't help it. He was. She had been through a lot but so had he. Why did she get to stay unaware while he had to remember it all?
He'd been on the move since he left her in Submiere, after collecting his pardon and his things from Woodrow. He wasn't sure, at first, where he was meant to go. He didn't want to go see Simon. He... he felt something for Simon, that much was true. Something, in fact, was probably a big understatement. He and Simon had kissed. Simon had lit a fire in his heart with that that made him quite certain he felt more than just something for Simon. But he also remembered that he felt a significant something for Rill, too. And Rill, like Simon seemed to, felt something back. And Rill was also currently locked away somewhere because of what he felt for Endless, and less than a year had gone by for him since then. It was four years ago for Endless. But the memories were now fresh, thanks to Simon's potion. It felt like last week to him.
He was confused. Old feelings for Rill freshly pulled to the surface were conflicting with new feelings for Simon. As such, seeing the alchemist right now would not have been good for him. And asking Lila for answers didn't seem like the thing to do either. Endless didn't believe in shooting the messenger, but... she was still not someone he wanted to see for a while.
But he still had questions. He still needed to know things. To understand things about himself. And perhaps that's how he found himself in Malscure. Woodrow had offered him enough money to secure ferry passage wherever he wanted to go; the man seemed to just want Endless out of his city, if nothing else. And Endless had decided that Malscure, the land ruled by Khades according to the religious folks, would be his destination. Maybe there, he might work out what he was feeling.
The small town of Cobblelight was charming. It had a quaint feel, old-timey and yet visibly outfitted with several modern amenities if one simply looked for them. The ground lit up underfoot with every step, and it made Endless feel less self-conscious of the way his eyes lit up under the glow of the moons. He realized, upon arriving, that Malscure was almost always in a state of perpetual night; he'd learned when he was very young that this was due to the country's position on the globe. Living in Artavia, Endless had grown used to the sight of the night sky being very common, as the floating nation didn't experience very bright days up near the edge of the atmosphere, and its skies were dominated by stars. So in a sense, the eternal night of Malscure was almost nostalgic. His eyes and their glow, which he now knew to be the work of his heritage rather than a mutation, were quite visibly apparent in this place, and yet... Endless had not received a single odd or off-putting look since he'd arrived.
Or perhaps, he considered, the people that were looking at him now were looking at him just the same as anyone ever had. The only difference was that now, Endless understood that the looks probably weren't the stares of people wondering why that freak boy had glowing eyes and chalk white skin, but rather... they may have been looks of recognition. Lila had tried to assuage some of his initial panic when she told him what he was, telling him that many people thought very highly of Moonborn. Their presence was seen as a good sign by people, something noteworthy. Was that really what it had been? All those times people had looked at him with wide eyes or strange looks... were they actually pleased to see him?
Unfortunately, that thought was not really any more welcome. It only made him feel like he was being weighed down by their expectations. The pressure was incredible.
Still, while he'd certainly turned one or two heads here in Malscure, it didn't seem like people were making as much of a fuss over him as was usual. He wondered if this being Khades's land had anything to do with that. At the very least, he didn't feel as uncomfortable as usual. It made him feel... curious. He'd come to Malcure in search of answers, after all, and thus far, he almost felt welcomed, in spite of not speaking to a soul. Something about the place felt right to him. It was with a strange confidence that he made his way towards the most reliable type of place he knew of when it came to finding information: a library.
Libraries had always been reliable. Libraries were how Endless filled in the majority of his education growing up without his family. And this library was about to tell him about who he was. Or rather, who he was supposedly meant to be.
Or it was supposed to, he thought, sticking out his lip and scrunching up his brows irritably. His fingertip ran along one of the rows of books he was searching, and came across yet another empty space. An empty space where there was supposed to be something on Lightborn. He'd checked the library's catalog thoroughly upon arrival, compiling a list of all of the titles in stock that touched on the topic, and yet for each one of these that he searched the shelves for, he found nothing but vacant spaces.
Someone had gotten here before him, and had apparently wanted to know the same things he did. It was kind of annoying, honestly. He heaved a sigh, and considered looking around for anything else. If past experience was any guide, libraries didn't always keep a perfect catalog of their own inventory. Sometimes their shelves were lined with books they didn't even know they had. But finding books like that was a manual process, simply going over every last shelf to try and find a title that jumped out at you. It was a chore.
Endless didn't feel like a chore right now.
Sighing, he resigned himself to simply coming back tomorrow and seeing if he had any better luck then, but he couldn't help but notice the stern shushing of one of the patrons by the librarian. Endless's eyes flitted over towards a number of tables, most of which sat unoccupied. At one of them was a pretty girl with pale skin that almost seemed to glitter, and a wave of pearlescent hair. It was she who gave a sheepish "sorry" to the nearby librarian, who had just shushed her for reading too loudly, apparently. Weird, all Endless had heard was faint whispers.
He was about to look away and continue towards the door of the place, but then he noticed something. Squinting, he took a step closer to the tables, his eyes zeroing in on the spine of the book the girl was reading.
Lightborn.
Endless stepped closer, now suddenly compelled to see if he could... he wasn't sure. Read over her shoulder, maybe? But as he got closer, he came to notice something else. That girl's table was littered with literally every single book Endless had been trying to find since he arrived here. That was... huh. Uncanny. And a little rude almost. But it's not like she could have known he was searching for those books, right?
Abruptly he came to a decision - a horribly awkward one, but still - and finished closing the distance between himself and her table. He stepped up slowly, rubbing at his neck and not quite making eye contact as he cleared his throat quietly. He was wary of the stern librarian, but she seemed to have stepped further away for the moment. The girl glanced up at him, her attention grabbed by his sounds, and he nodded at the book in her hand (and the ones on the table).
"Um..." he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "So... you kind of have every book that I came here to read... would it, er... would it be too much trouble if I, um, read one of the ones you're not using?"
[attr="class","vpostbg"] Neyela’s eyes had never sped so fast over any bit of parchment as it did these stiff pages.
It was a droll work, truthfully, over-indulgent with it’s explanations and frustratingly whimsical in speech; but informative, and straightforward in its analysis. History was tied perfectly with the present, lore with modernity, and the structure of her own race (strange, to call it a race, as if she were not the same as her boisterous brothers, her proud father, the mother who had braided her hair) was eerily insightful.
She had suspected.
That much was true.
But to see it here, written in ink, the reasons for the shimmer of her skin, the milk of her hair, to read hundreds of years of history of people who were just like her, felt the pull that she did of the wide unknown, to see it here, touch the pages that told of a forbidden love, and a couple who had to sacrifice it to lead their people to light, comfort, happiness...
Thanatos was there, was always there, behind closed eyelids.
It was surreal.
Delicate knuckles were white with the pressure of their grip on the covers of the book.
Chapter Two: Moonborn
Unlike the starborn, noted particularly by the glimmering quality of their skin and eyes, a moonborn is near impossible to miss. They are almost always silver or blue-black of skin, with a shock of hair like midnight. Most notable, however, are the twin moons – reminiscent of those hanging in Fortuna’s sky – of their eyes. Pale and pupil-less, they glow in the presence of the moons, and are especially striking under a full moon.
A soft e-hem tore her from her fervent worship of the pages before her, tearing pastel eyes from the page – she was nearly done with that paragraph! – to silver eyes.
Pupil-less, silver eyes.
He did not see that her mouth popped into a ‘o’, recognition flashing across her startled gaze.
He did not see her glance at the page, in wonderment, then back to the man before her, a manifestation of it’s words.
In fact, by the time he had torn his own pale orbs from her massive pile of books (which, now, seemed quite rude of her), she was only smiling pleasantly at him; and allowed a reproached chuckle.
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t realize someone else might want them. Of course, take whichever.”
But she didn’t let loose her vice grip on Lightborn, and, after a moment of speculation, scooted the large, dusty volume labeled Darkborn: Misconceptions of the Three Races to the side.
“That one’s not very good,” she muttered, with a sidelong look that seemed to communicate some secret amusement.
She let him pick his poison, noting Meddling with Moonborn near the top of one pile; but, before he could abscond with his choice(s), she pinned him with another curious look, half-closing the pages of her book.
“Just out of curiosity,” she intoned, reflective, “Why are you reading a book about yourself?”
Post by Endless Laeretti on Mar 25, 2017 23:48:20 GMT -7
He offered her a grateful smile (and tried not to show his bare hints of annoyance through it) as she easily acquiesced his request. After all, it was clear from her own words that she hadn't meant any harm in hording them all, and she wasn't putting up a fight over the matter. Most likely the residual annoyance Endless was feeling was more or less still at his own situation, just being directed poorly through an outlet.
"Thanks," he muttered in response to her warning on the one titled Darkborn. He'd been... curious, about that one, when he saw the name in the library catalog. The cynic in him kind of wanted to read it anyway, if only to affirm his own negative feelings. But with so many other options available (and the girl clearly warding him against it), he decided to let it go for now.
His eyes instead traveled over the well-worn covers of the other books present, one of which specifically had the word 'Moonborn' in its title; he considered reaching for that one.
"Just out of curiosity, why are you reading a book about yourself?"
He paused, startled. So she had recognized what he was.
Well, duh, of course she did. It was pretty obvious, wasn't it? Obvious to everyone except Endless, apparently, an ignorant Artavian (and wasn't that an oxymoron) who'd spent his whole life never knowing the truth. But no, apparently everyone he'd come across in his life (or close to it) had recognized him for what he was. They kept their distance, possibly out of respect, or... or because they didn't want to get close to someone who was probably marked for death.
The line of his jaw tightened. He wished someone, anyone, had approached him sooner in his life and asked him something innocuous like "what's it like to be a Moonborn?" Maybe then he could have woken up a lot sooner. He wished his family had told him. They couldn't all have not known, right?
So it was really no surprise that this girl apparently recognized him for what he was immediately. Though it was certainly surprising for her to just point it out to him, like no one else ever seemed so direct about doing. He wasn't used to it.
He lifted his eyes, which were emitting only the faintest glow from here inside the library, meeting her own curious gaze of lilac eyes. On closer inspection... Endless actually wasn't sure what she was, either. Twinkling skin? White hair on a humanoid body, but without the red eyes of albinism? He couldn't think of any Aasimar that looked quite like her. His eyes flitted again to the book she held in a tight grip, to all the books scattered around her...
Hesitantly, he decided to pull out a chair at her table, taking a seat when she didn't voice any objection to the action. He shuffled himself in once he was seated, his shoulders hunched self-consciously.
"Well... I might, ah, guess... maybe I want to read for the same reason you might be reading it?" He glanced up at her expectantly, wondering if she caught his meaning. Rather than wait for the answer though, he just coughed and turned his eyes back down, staring at the table. When he spoke, it was in a small voice. "I... only recently learned. About what I am."
[attr="class","vcred"]Endless Laeretti - 412 pls forgive; still kind of learning her voice
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[attr="class","vpostbg"] He certainly was unsure for someone who, according to Lightborn Across the Ages, “have the mark of a destiny about them, which can be cruel, but is often soon embraced. Fully-grown Lightborn will speak with assurance, move with conviction, and rarely waver from their fated path.”
And – yet – if he had just learned, as she had...
– she tossed him a welcome smile, when he pulled the chair across from her, and she moved a few books so as not to obscure him –
Perhaps he, like she, knew nothing of his destiny; and felt the weight of it pressing on unprepared shoulders. She’d read, too, of the dislike the powerful had for the Lightborn: and Moonborn, especially, often a sure sign of a short reign, and of the peril of doom assumed on Lightborn children, known to die for their cause...
It was easy for her to embrace, having felt the call of a greater fate for as long as she could remember... but for this man, who seemed sure of little, who had even avoided looking at her, seeing her, for fear of the truth of what she was, maybe his fate was unwelcome.
He had even asked her; asked her if she was, too, what he was. And then backtracked.
Neyela flipped back to chapter one, eyes alight for a certain phrase –
“Starborn are recognizable for their traditionally “beautiful” characteristics; skin that seems almost to sparkle like the distant stars, and stark white eyes.”
Her own eyes, white themselves but for the amethyst tint of abjuration, rose to his, glowing in recognition of the moons.
“It answers a few questions, at least.” A soft smile spread – testing the cool waters of his mood, then set, finally, her book on the desk – with a last forlorn glance promising to return.
“I didn’t really know until a few days ago. I dreamed... well, I guess I didn’t dream, really, but – I saw three birds, and they told me that I had some kind of fate, that I was going to change the world...” her gaze was telling, “No pressure.”
It was, admittedly, an odd feeling, to confide this in a perfect stranger, but Neyela felt some undeniable kinship with this uncertain man. He, too, had a family somewhere that had treated him no different; he, too, had wondered at the tumult of impossible emotions, ever-present. It may have been more than circumstance that they crossed paths at a library in Malscure.
Post by Endless Laeretti on Sept 12, 2017 18:55:14 GMT -7
Something about the woman was... enchanting. And not in that way that men usually described women; Endless knew with assurance that none of those particular interests for women were present within him. But rather, she had a way about her that sort of drew him in. A warmth, almost. The way she spoke and smiled implied there was no waiting judgment or scrutiny with her, and it was comfortable. She hadn't exactly said that many words to him thus far, but it was still the feeling he got from her. Though it probably helped that she seemed to be in the same boat as him, a situation Endless couldn't say often occurred with other people he met.
So she was a Starborn... One of the other two kinds of Lightborn that existed, apparently. And like him, she'd only just learned about it recently. But what really grabbed his attention was how she mentioned seeing three birds in a dream -- or, vision, he guessed, since they couldn't REALLY dream?? And that those birds had communicated some greater, grand purpose. That was a familiar situation.
He returned her smile with a slight one of his own, chuckling at her remark of 'No pressure'. "Endless," he replied. "Um, my name. Strange one, I know. And, well, about those birds... I saw a bird," he added, trying to remember to keep his voice quiet in this place.
"Not, er, recently though. A few years ago. Though I only just remembered about it..." He glanced off to the side, shaking his head. "Amnesiac shenanigans were involved, long story. But it was... massive. A gigantic thing with blue feathers that seemed to control the wind. It spoke to me, too. Said something about me having to recognize the consequences of every single action I take... Not how I found out I was a Moonborn, but,"
A harsh shhhh! cut him off, and he jumped in his seat. The librarian had returned and was looking at the pair of them with a stern expression. "Sir, you may not appreciate how your voice travels in such a silent location, but it does, and you are disturbing the other readers. And you, missy," she added, point an accusatory finger at Neyela, "have already been warned. If you cannot be quiet, then you may leave."
Endless frowned, glancing over at Neyela, who also seemed unhappy about the interruption. Somehow this librarian had managed to tell them off for speaking, but her own voice was so flat and hushed that Endless doubted it had traveled to the other readers at all. If it weren't for the fact that she was chewing them out, Endless would probably have been impressed over that level of vocal control.
He offered the librarian a nod, and the lady marched off sternly. Swallowing once, Endless peeked back over at Neyela and, despite himself, cracked a small smile over the matter. Dropping his eyes down to the table's surface, he noticed a small notepad with some worn pencils near it; probably the sort of thing that was meant for the patrons to write down things like catalog numbers for books. He made a grab for it, and began writing on it with an amused smirk. When he was finished, he slid it over to Neyela.
Were any of the birds you saw anything like the one I was describing?
Next to the message was a crude doodle of the librarian, with fangs and claws, shooting fire from her mouth. A voice bubble next to her read: QUIET!!!
lmk if I described anything incorrectly (notably his handwriting)
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The girl, so unused to reacting to those outside of her family and her tribe, couldn’t help the smile tugging fondly at the corners of rose lips. There was something familiar about this boy, Endless, something like home.
“It suits you,” a murmur, “Endless.”
And then he spoke of a bird, and her frosty brows, lifted in affectionate amusement, drew slowly earthward, eyes shimmering with the motion of slow, laborious thoughts.
Neyela’s memory of the vision was hazy at the very best, slipping from her mind the way mist slips through the grip of jealous fingers. She had struggled to remember the details of the celestial interaction in the way one might endeavor to pin the waning tide against rough sands; desperately, and futile.
Her visitors had never intended their message to linger in her mind, a tale of great exploration (as if she was the kind to brag of wild adventures); they had faded in her mind, leaving behind only words.
You are the one who will purify Fortuna,
You are the one who cannot be destroyed.
You are the one who will punish the wicked.
All else would leave her in time, she knew. Not those words.
And yet, pearlescent brows low in concentration, lavender eyes pinned to opal, she did remember the darkest of the birds, now; whose crow summoned thunder, and a shimmering bird in Alice Blue, reflecting the cerulean of the cloud-studded sky…
“Did –“
But before she could voice the thought, the librarian was back, with a harsh shush (aimed mostly for Neyela, already catalogued in her mind as a disrupter).
They were quite the pair; boy frowning in what was truly an impressive distaste. Little did he realize it, but the line of hard brows over swimming milky eyes was intimidating enough, paired with the frostbitten gash of pursed lips; his heritage betrayed itself. Even in slight annoyance, he looked near ready to smite Mme Librarian.
And across from him sat the stars to frame his twin moons; her own expression not nearly so telling, but the way she set her unwavering periwinkle, gazing admonishingly from just under long sienna lashes, the edges of salmon lips just touched by the hint of a frown…
- did not affect the stern librarian in the slightest. She had five little terrors at home, and had no doubt that a sharp crack across the knuckles with a good hard ruler would have the same effect on these two bothersome teenagers as it did on her boys.
Eventually, Neyela refusing to let her own staring competition falter, Endless gave a brisk nod, ushering the pudgy woman off to reprimand someone else reading too loudly.
Were any of the birds you saw anything like the one I was describing?, the note read, scrawled in an untidy script, which, next to Neyela’s answer, looked haphazard.
The hasty cartoon next to it, though, tempted a flash of alabaster teeth. Well, whaddaya know. Endless was funny.
She wrote back in a handsome cursive, graceful and intentional, so much like her demeanor.
There was a blue bird, a pale hand faltered, still enough not to catch the light in fluorescent-dimmed sparkle, as she debated; tell him that it said it chose her? Was she confidant that this was truth, no sleepless fantasy which had touched her lonely, journeying mind? And yet he had confided in her, even in his insecurity; it was only just to repay that favor. It claimed I was the one to purify Fortuna. Do you think they could be one and the same?
The girl glanced up at the pile between them; book after book on star and sun and moon, but only a handful that seemed worth her time. She tucked ‘Lightborn’ to her chest.
Should we check a few of these books out? To escape – A swirling line lead to an arrow pointing at his cartoon – to which she added a few select details.
Perhaps a few fangs and dual horns were among them.
Post by Endless Laeretti on Jan 18, 2018 5:40:12 GMT -7
Endless could feel his heartbeat quickening in excitement when Neyela began to write her response, his eyes devouring the words as quickly as she scrawled them - which wasn't quick enough, honestly, because she was taking her time on that fancy script of hers (not that it wasn't pretty, of course). She confirmed that one of the birds she saw had indeed been a blue one, perhaps a written answer to the statement she'd been interrupted from making when the librarian had come to chastise them again. She then added something else that Endless found interesting: apparently the blue bird had said that she would be the one to purify Fortuna.
Well... it would seem Neyela here may have had an inkling of her calling, then. A place to start, where her purpose was concerned. Endless had... well, he couldn't say he had nothing. He had memories now, memories that reminded him ceaselessly of the injustice Rill had and likely still was suffering. Memories that reminded him that some of the gods were tyrants. Corruption in leadership was evidently not limited to just Fortuna. He'd already determined that no matter what, he had to find some way to get back to the Feywild and rescue Rill. But was that his purpose? He couldn't imagine it was. Rill was only imprisoned in the first place due to Endless's actions, so it's not like he could have been destined from birth to save Rill when Rill never would have gotten into any trouble if not for Endless.
But maybe it was still a start. It was somewhere to go from, like Neyela seemed to have. 'Purify Fortuna' wasn't exactly the most descriptive task either, but it was a springboard, right?
Do you think they could be one and the same? her scrawled response asked him. The blue bird she saw had spoken of her as a purifier... and that word itself was familiar to Endless's freshly restored memories.
"MAY THESE WINDS PURIFY YOUR DOUBTS AND SWEEP AWAY THE FOG THAT HINDERS YOU."
Those had been the Xinrra's words to him that day. Endless had a suspicion that he and Neyela may have indeed seen the same creature. Which left him curious... one massive, god-like bird was already something. She had apparently seen three. What were the other two?
Before he could ask further, she scrawled another question - one suggesting they 'escape' and check out some of the books. Endless smiled and nodded at her. That sounded like a better idea than trying to whisper and write to each other all day. He also didn't miss her little additions to his drawing, and had himself a small snicker at it before crumpling the paper up and out of sight - he wouldn't want the librarian actually seeing it. Standing from the table, he nodded towards the front desk.
"Shall we then?" he asked in as quiet a voice he could manage. He had plenty of questions for Neyela, but they'd have to wait until they exited.
THIS IS LIKE TOTALLY SELF-GRATUITOUS AND IM LIKE ONLY A LITTLE SORRY
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Endless rose with a curt nod; not swift with the tension of annoyance, but brisk in the trepidation of anticipation.
She felt it, too, the writhing blend of warring emotions stirring moodily in her chest.
What did this all mean? She hardly believed that she’d lived a lifetime without knowing who she was - a true lifetime, her childhood with her brothers, her years away from home, studying the magics of locking doors and hidden shields, her love. Her loss.
And yet; on one sunny afternoon in Malscure, in a few short hours, she’s discovered who she is, and she finds another brother; not physical, celestial.
Neyela Deastellae seemed so small in that moment: slender shoulders framed by the massive crescent of literature, the lithe twine of alabaster fingers tucked under a dimpled chin.
She didn’t really feel ready for this, but it was here, and so she would square her shoulders and face it.
And thus she rose; shoulders strong and chin high.
”We shall.” A tilt of pleasant peach lips rested under the barest hint of uncertainty in violet eyes; despite Neyela’s best efforts.
Her hands caught the light as she gathered up two or three choice books and checked them out, under the watchful gaze of their dear librarian friend, who twitched her nose as they left.
She was another being under the blanket of the sleeping stars; the subtle twinkling of her skin, the shimmering fabric of alabaster hair, the wide mystery in periwinkle eyes… it was easier to miss under the canopy of daylight or candle, but it shone under the speckled sky.
But the starborn’s transformation was nothing to the moonborn. His eyes were two pools – reflecting their sisters hanging uneven in the skies. His skin shown under their cool luminescence.
Magical.
”It’s funny, isn’t it?” She murmured, ”It’s so obvious, and neither of us ever knew.”
And then her thoughts seemed to still, the whirring of her mind stalling, evaluating.
”It’s almost as if something’s about to happen, and we’ve both been woken up…” and just like that the whirring begins again, and one end of blush lips pulls upward, sheepish, ”I’m thinking too much, aren’t I?”
Post by Endless Laeretti on May 3, 2018 23:27:04 GMT -7
"...No, I don't think you are, honestly."
Endless's countenance as he spoke those words was visibly troubled, his brows scrunched together in concern as his glowing gaze was cast towards the ground, adding two more spots of illumination to the earth that already lit up with every step taken by passersby. Neyela's first comment might have made him laugh, if he'd been in any frame of mind to come to proper terms with what was happening to him. The idea that both he and she had had no idea what they were, in spite of what should have apparently been obvious signs... Pale skin that was somehow also radiant, twin glowing moon eyes, freaky telekinetic powers? And then there was her with her skin that literally twinkled in the starlight, alongside pure white hair and the unique cosmic visage that was her own eyes.
It should have been obvious and yet the truth had been obscured. And then there was Lila, The Seeress, the one whom Simon and Tehodis had both known only briefly and yet both seemed to have some special trust in her, in the words she spoke, as though there was more to her than either of them were telling him. She had spoken of destiny, and purpose, and had implied that there was something major that she was involved in. She'd even suggested that their meeting may not have been any kind of coincidence, but that Endless would be better off figuring himself out before involving himself with her.
It was true that since leaving Niseca, he'd been quite singularly focused on finding a way back to the Feywild, to save Rill from Haelrin, but... as he recalled the words of the Xinrra, and Lila's implications, he couldn't help but feel that there may indeed have been something coming. Something unknown that might well have affected all of Fortuna, and that he supposedly needed to be prepared for it.
It was a startling thing to think about. Fear-inducing as he considered the idea that just because he was a Moonborn, that meant that there was some grand purpose he was going to have to face alone...
No. Not alone, he reminded himself. He wasn't. He did have Simon, even if he didn't currently feel it was best to see him. He may well have Lila, if her suggestion had been what he interpreted it to be, that he should seek her out if ever he discovered what he was meant to do. And...
He glanced back at Neyela again, who'd been staring curiously at him over these brief couple moments of his silence. He offered a light, if rueful, smile. They'd only just met, but maybe he was in this whole debacle with her, too.
"I think it's probably pretty reasonable to think that something could be coming. It's, um... kind of chilling to think about, if I'm being honest. Makes it sound like some giant threat that we're supposed to be the heroes for... So, maybe if nothing else, it's an ambitious thought? If that makes sense..."
He chuckled and shook his head. Maybe it was. Endless was a lot of things, but he'd never been a hero. And this? This implication of grand destiny was something heroes did.
"Can't help but feel like Khades picked a real dud," he muttered, lowly but not too quietly for Neyela to hear, and with a tone steeped in all the bitterness he was still feeling over the little revelation.
The skin OTHERWORLD was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND.
FORTUNA-RPG was created by MELLIE. Images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders. Please DO NOT take anything without the owners' permission.
