Spring in Balavan - Lore/Elai

[FLICK]

The city had begun to stir again after a bitter winter, like an old dog lifting itself up on unsteady paws after a nap. For months, the streets had been quiet and still, the domain of wind and sleet, to be viewed through the yellow warmth of glazed windows from inns and toasty houses. The two schools of Balavan, Mirian and Iosent, had not fallen still, though Mirian's gardens lay sleeping under drifts of snow and Iosent's targets huddled together for warmth against the cold. Many still studied at their libraries or met in their warm, golden halls, where the bite of winter frost was forgotten amongst the joy and delight of Elven merriment.

Elai had been to one such winter festival, and had spent many more evenings by the warm fire in the Mirian library, memorising words she still didn't understand and soaking in the knowledge as she absorbed the firelight. Much of the meaning escaped her still, but her Common had improved massively over the winter and she felt a thrill of pleasure when she could decipher an entire chapter of remedies.

She had been staying with an Elven lady by the name of Ilnien, who offered her knowledge to seekers at the school of herbalism. Upon Elai's first coming to Balavan, the pair had met when the girl was exploring, and within a few hours the older woman had offered her a room in her house, at the condition that she help her with herbalism when her tiredness set in. Elai found the work interesting and engaging, and the long winter had passed rapidly between herbalism and language lessons.

Now the wheel of time had turned, and the winter was melting into spring. The ice on the streets had melted, and flowers peeping their bright heads from window-boxes glistened in the spring sunshine with melted winter's snow. Flowers sprung up in the cracks between the cobblestones, and all throughout the surrouding countryside the meadows unfolded their splendour. Some brimmed with flowers for perfume or medicine; others with crops; and the hills were dusted with pink and white blossom as orchards burst into bloom.

The snowbound winter over, Elai was free to explore parts of the Elven city she had not seen in the dying days of autumn. She had changed from her winter clothes into a faded yellow shift lent to her by Ilnien to greet the springtime. Her hair was worn out, as Ilnien told her was the custom. The streets, it seemed, were alive with people as excited as she was to escape from the cold shackles of the winter, and as she wandered many paused to greet her as she wandered - mostly in the Elven tongue, of which she had picked up enough to answer them with the customary reply and ask after the health of their families.

Still the city amazed her, as had all the cities she had visited. She had never imagined the vastness that was Syrunn; the thousands of people, thousands of houses, thousands of leagues of land. It was beyond comprehension, but every league, every person, every house enraptured her as much as the first had. Balavan was no exception - the Elven culture delighted her, and the Elves she had met seemed amused by her excitement. The architecture of their city was incredible - their towers stretched to the sky, and even the humblest of abodes was built with clean lines and beautifully delicate edges.

Her eyes were fixed upwards as she wandered past a white-and-gold cathedral, an almagamation of towering spires and delicate stonework, her feet moving instinctively over the rounded edges of the cobblestones beneath her feet. She could see the green tips of treetops above her, which brought an instant smile to her lips - perhaps the way they incorporated nature so smoothly into their lives was why Elai felt so comfortable in the land of the Elves.

[Chani {♥}]

Lorelei shook her fair hair from her light face as she walked down one of the streets in Balavan. She knew she shouldn't stay here any longer, she had already been staying two nights, but she just couldn't force herself to leave Eria again. At least she hadn't been entirely stupid and went to Letra, where she knew they would be looking for her.

Wait. That was the plan, wasn't it? She was going to brave up and go there, where she could see what had become of her late husband's home. Of their home. She was determined not to cry when she did it, either. That and not to get killed... She was looking for an excuse not to, coward that she was. Anything.

While lost in her thoughts, arguing whether or not she should leave Letra and where she would go afterward, she bumped into a young woman.

"Oh! Sorry...," she began in Elven, then noticed that she couldn't be from around here. Elai was just... otherworldly in comparison to the Elves around them. "I mean, sorry," she said in Common. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

[FLICK]

Her eyes had been fixed on the sky, as they so often seemed to be. It was to do with her upbringing; it had instilled in her an almost unconscious longing for high places, and in her pensive moments she often caught herself gazing with unrecognised longing at the clouds, drifting serenely by; the feathery leaves that crowned the tall trees; or - as the case was - the spindly arches and spires of an Elven monument. She lost herself, sometimes, in thought, or reflection, or just the exhilaration of life, and it was in times like these people were needed to come along and bump into her.

One did.

Elai sprung backwards out of pure instinct, her hand flying automatically to her left hip where, if she had been wearing her traveller's uniform, a long bone knife was strapped. There was nothing there, and panic rose in her throat until she remembered her circumstances. She was in the centre of Balavan. There were other people on the street who could intervene on her behalf. The danger was minimal. In less than a second she had relaxed her pose, stuck an apologetic look to her features and been unable to halt the flush of embarrassment on her neck.

"Sorry!" she blurted out in Common. She should have known the Elven equivalent, but in the moment her memory deserted her. But then - was the woman an Elf? She had Elven features, to be sure, but there was something oddly different about her that hinted at an older, more magical heritage. But there was hardly time to be making guesses about the stranger's ancestry. "I-I apologise. It was my fault as much as it was yours. My name is Elai - what is yours?" She smiled apologetically.

[Chani {♥}]

Elai's sudden reaction frightened the skittish Lorelei for a moment. She had a brief thought that maybe she should get ready to cast some sort of spell, but, if Elai had had her bone knife on her and had thought of Lorelei as any sort of danger, there's no doubt that she could have slit Lorelei's throat before Lorelei could have created so much as a slight breeze. She was reluctant to fight and not very confident at all in her magic. Her eyes were wide and her body froze for that small minute, but then Elai was apologizing.

It took Lorelei a second to relax, and even so she wondered if she should just run off. She really was a coward, wasn't she? She finally cleared her throat.

"You're too kind," she said, almost in a whisper, moving her gaze to the ground. "My name is Lorelei." Well, it was a good thing that Elai had good hearing, or she probably would have thought Lorelei was a deaf-mute and expected Elai to read her lips.

[FLICK]

"I'm... sorry?" Elai said again, lost for words. What did people normally say when they got told that they were 'too' something? Sorry would have to do for the moment, it seemed, because the words had already slipped out of her mouth into the silence around them. Awkwardly, Elai shifted her gaze to a nearby flowerbed, where red and purple flowers sprung like fireworks to warm their heads in the spring sunshine.

People were not like flowers, Elai had discovered, content to bob in the warm light, smiling endlessly at the world and waiting for the time when they were fated to pass what had once been theirs into the earth so that another could rise in their place. Perhaps in the treetops of her home, but in Syrunn - and even Eria - people's needs and desires were far more complex. People were afraid of death; but moreso, they were afraid to live their life as it should be lived, to greet each day with the warmth and joy it deserved, to be grateful for all the opportunities that life had placed before them. There were always chances, but no matter how many one grabbed more were always tossed away. That was why death was such a feared thing - the ending of a life that had not exhausted all its possibilities; had not completed all the living alotted to it.

It was these thoughts of chance and opportunity that led Elai to speak again, rather than moving past the shy Lorelei. What opportunities did the strange woman hold just within the reach of a conversation? Within the reach of a friendship?
"What is your business in Balavan?" she asked, hoping that despite her clipped syllables and over-precise pronunciations she did not sound intrusive. "Do you hail from here, or nearby?"

[Chani {♥}]

Lorelei raised her eyebrows and stared at Elai after she apologized. For... being too kind? But Elai seemed as if she had been searching for a word and had got stuck with "sorry." Was she not very articulate in Common? It wasn't until, a moment later, when Elai asked two questions in a row that this suspicion was confirmed. She certainly was different, wasn't she? Common was a language that Lorelei had before thought universally known, taught to children of all countries at a young age. Lorelei guessed that perhaps she was poorly educated or had lived a sheltered life.

"I once lived in Letra," she said quietly, pretending to observe a building across the road. "But that was almost thirty years ago." Her eyes, always misty and empty as if her thoughts were constantly elsewhere, made her appear even more absent for a moment. She blinked and turned back to Elai, smiling politely. "Where are you from, Elai?"

[FLICK]

Elai ducked her gaze as Lorelei stared, painfully aware of her raised eyebrows. Perhaps 'sorry' hadn't been the right word, but she supposed she couldn't help that. She could only do the best she could do under the circumstances, and if she picked the wrong word once in a while - who cared? But that didn't change the fact that she got enough stray glances in the city of the Elves anyway, let alone the ones she got for her linguistic issues. But the woman had still answered her questions, and Elai pulled her head back up again, her cautiously friendly smile restored.

"What was it like in Letra, then?" she asked, her eyes widening as she imagined it. She had not seen Letra, nor Aluen, nor the other cities of the Elves, but she could only imagine they would be as wonderful as the farming city of Balavan; how could they be otherwise? The Elves knew secrets of architecture and art that seemed stolen from a time in the future - the grace and elegance of their construction and planning was unsurpassed in any of the places she had visited. Even her home - her beloved home - did not compare to the beauty of the Elven city. For although the treetop network was an incredible logistical feat and she could imagine nothing more dazzling than the sight of the sun through the very highest leaves, the buildings themselves were simple, functional. They lacked the finesse she now found all around her.

"I... I come from another place," Elai began. She was never sure how to introduce her home, when she was asked about it. Here it seemed so distant, so small, that she was almost sure nobody would know of it. "My home is on an island. The Common Tongue gives it the name 'Win Dain', but we have many titles for her. There we live among the trees. It is a very different world to here." Then she smiled again. "Where were you going?"

[Chani {♥}]

"Win Dain? Hm," Lorelei acknowledged. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place a finger on where it was. She was rather curious about this strange young woman. Her Common was a little impaired, but something about Elai told Lorelei she had more "common" sense than those who could speak the language perfectly. There was something that hinted at intelligence in her eyes. Was it the slight irritation she had with herself for not being able to find the right words and phrases? "Letra is beautiful. Balavan is beautiful, too, but it does not compare to Letra at all." A reminiscent smile touched her face. "Aluen is lovelier still, but it scares me, a little. It's so... big." She shrugged. "I fell in love with Letra. We had a house. It was small, but I loved it. It was home." Her eyes sparkled faintly, then she shook the thoughts away.

"Where was I going?" she reiterated, looking thoughtful. "Well, I was considering leaving to visit Letra. I wanted to see what became of our house. I wanted to visit old friends, old places, and see all that is new. But first, I'd have to earn a little money and buy a few things. I'm a minstrel." She pointed to the harp strapped to her back. "What about you? What is your profession?"

[FLICK]

ooc:
Ahaha, Chani, veeerrrry witty. Very witty indeed. Dare I say un"common"ly witty?
... No, I dare not.
Never mind then.

ic:
Elai listened intently, almost completely silently, to Lorelei's story. That was just the way she was - she absorbed information at a rate of knots, and any opportunity to learn more about the world and its ways was welcomed with open arms. Figuratively speaking. But although her lips were still, her mind was not - she tried to read the nuances behind the words, the story hidden beneath this casual conversation. I fell in love with Letra... I fell in love with Letra? Or I fell in love in Letra? Elai carefully studied Lorelei's face, but she could read no hidden meaning there. Perhaps it was not the city, but the memories, that meant so much to her.

And what had she meant, 'we had a house'? That just raised more questions... but the sheen in her eyes clearly meant it was a delicate subject, and Elai's grasp of social structure told her that in matters like this it was not appropriate to pry, no matter the innocence of the intention.

"I would much like to visit Aluen," she said distractedly. In her minds eye, she could see the prints of the village - city, she corrected herself - in Ilnien's books. All stained pink and gold and blue, crystal spires that even approached the height of the greatest trees in her canopy home - heights that, without the obscuring lattice of branches, would make Elai herself dizzy, albeit just for a short time.

"But Letra also intrigues," she said, the hint of a suggestion in her voice, before she registered Lorelei's question. "I... I don't... I have no profession," she said eventually, slowly. "I have many skills... where I come from, we have no concept of 'coin'." Her lips quirked at the word, as though the concept still amused her. "We are a..." She tried to remember the phrase Ilnien had muttered. "Cohesive unit? We work with each other, and together we keep us alive. We share what we hunt, and make. We do not use your substitute value." Elai shook her head - what she was saying had confused her, particularly the last few words (which she was not sure were correct), and she doubted Lorelei would understand. "You follow? I cannot explain."

[Chani {♥}]

Lorelei listened to Elai patiently, not minding the hesitation between words. She felt more sympathetic than anything. She had been to Ri Yan and other countries where different languages were dominant. While most people spoke Common, it was odd to be surrounded by conversation that you didn't understand, even if you had no intention of being a part of it.

She guessed that Elai was from an isolated tribe. That would explain how she did not speak Common fluently and it certainly fit her description.

"I think I understand," Lorelei said. "Did you have music there, in... Win Dain?" It was probably not a question Elai had been asked before, but that was the sort of thing Lorelei wondered. The Elves were a creative people, inspiring music, magic, art, and literature. She wondered if the tribe had not spared any time for such crafts. She had heard of such people who preferred practicality and the idea scared her. She really didn't know what she would do without music.

[FLICK]

Elai felt surprisingly comfortable in Lorelei's company. She had often found the people of the Outworld - what her tribe had called the rest of Syrunn - to be loud and demanding in conversation and manner, although obviously unintentionally, but Lorelei's silences and her patience did not seem pressuring, and her speech was quiet and unreluctanct. She seemed as willing to share as to ask, although, like all people, she obviously had secrets she would prefer kept, and Elai felt like it was okay to be herself.

"Music," she said with a smile, as though she just wanted to hear the sound of the word. "Yes, we have music, but it is not... the same as your music here." The most common of the tribes instruments was a sort of cross between a harp and a lute - it had the resonating chamber of a guitar to produce a full, even tone, but the strings were arranged more like the harp and they were not pressed on to raise pitch. But it was unlike either in that the strings were stroked rather than plucked, and the melodies had a legato, slurred quality that the plucking of the string could not accomplish. The problem was explaining it.

"We have... En'deme." She tried miming the shape of the instrument - it was held between the legs, the neck of the instrument resting on the shoulder as a cello's did. Unlike the cello, though, the neck curved to the left of the player to allow freer access to the strings, and the resonating chamber was rounded, like the bottom half of a very large coconut. "But it is a different sound. Smooth and creamy, like milk. Haunting. And pipes," she added, miming again, "but en'deme is most common." She looked a bit guilty. "I am sorry, I do not have one in Balavan. They are too large, and among my people I am only amateur as en'dem'n."

She cheered up quickly when she realised that she had perhaps found something of a level ground in her interest. "Do you make music, Lorelei? Or do you have other arts?"

[Chani {♥}]

Lorelei felt some sort of relief when Elai said that her tribe had known the craft of music. She tried her best to understand as Elai explained the "en'deme" to her. "Smooth and creamy, like milk. Haunting." Lorelei tried to imagine such a sound, but she could not. Oh, how she would have liked to have seen such an instrument and heard its strange sounds. She longed to follow Elai all the way back to Win Dain just to see it. Her face lit up instantly as Elai asked her a question.

"I'm... fairly good at the harp," she said cautiously. Lorelei didn't brag, it just wasn't like her at all. She flushed a little. "I can sing, too. I love music." Her eyes glimmered briefly. "I tell stories sometimes, though I'm not sure if I'm any good." She grinned. "Oh, and I can work glass when I have the right equipment. It's been ages since I've done any of it, though... The things it requires are just too expensive and I can't take them with me when I travel." She shook her head sadly. "What sort of songs did you sing in Win Dain?" Lorelei asked. The elves and the humans sang mostly narrative songs, ballads and the like. The way Lorelei sang when she let the music consume her, the way her siren blood bid her to sing, was hard to explain. They weren't words, just sounds, like "la" and "ooh", but the way in which they were sang, it was almost like a language. It could make others feel sad and happy all at the same time. She had heard of many different styles of singing and song-writing. She wondered if Elai's tribe had had its own and if she could possibly convince Elai to sing one.

[FLICK]

The harp - Elai had a vague understanding of what was meant by that, and singing; well, that was probably among the most widespread of artistic pursuits, a form of it explored by practically all cultures. Stories, too, were clear, but the working of glass confused her. "We... we do not have glass in Win Dain. It is like magic ice - I do not understand it. It does not melt, and is not cold." She shrugged. "In Win Dain we work wood, we... carve? Models," she mimed.

"Songs in Win Dain... we have our own language. We do not sing in Common, or Elvish. Most people cannot speak even Common. Our songs tell stories - the songs for entertainment. Tales of heroes, people who did great things, or legends and the story of our arrival on the island." The other songs were harder to understand. "We also have music for magic... for rituals. I cannot explain - we have drums, and there is singing, and... magic happens." She shook her head. Elai didn't have the shamanistic abilities for such a performance, and she didn't understand them well enough to explain with her limited grasp of Common.

"But you, surely, are talented at music," she said instead. "I would very much like to hear you sing, or play, if you would allow it."