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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Apr 27, 2009 22:51:23 GMT -5
Swearing mentally when he stubbed a toe on what he suspected was a root of a very large tree, Aras nevertheless continued onward, pace not slackening. The vulture was getting skittish, but knowing they were powerless without the open sky above them, she kept still and silent. As much as she disliked it, they had no choice but to put their trust in Reyes.
“Why do you think this place was built?”
Aras gave it some thought. "I'm guessing you don't mean the explanation archaeologists give us." Mulling it over as they walked, he finally spoke. "We know that people with Talismans have an unusual affinity for the place and frequent visitors who don't have spirits usually turn out to be Seekers anyway... My guess would be that this used to be a place - a holy ground - where Talismans and their humans first bonded. Probably a cause for ceremonies and celebration." Even though it was dark, he smiled wryly. He imagined it to be quite different from most cases today. Many were not even aware of the Talismans' existence until the dreams just got too weird or they inadvertently transformed into their animal. Usually a cause for alarm, not festivities.
"Of course, I could be completely wrong. What do you think?"
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Post by DesperateDark on Apr 28, 2009 17:31:18 GMT -5
Reyes smiled at the sensible elucidation Aras gave him. “Yes, you’re right in the sense that this was a place of celebration.” He brought out a hand and placed it gently on the cool, mossy wall. Even if he couldn’t see it, he could almost feel the paintings through his fingers, they told their own stories. “But, think about it, how about the opposite? Think about it as you will, but this is the Shaman ruins. You know what a Shaman is, right?” Reyes continued to lead and pick the way through, jumping over an outsticking root and touched the walls for guidance. “If you could read what were on these walls, Aras, then you’d know.” He stopped and took a quick glance around – not like he could see anyways – and headed to his left. “You see, with gain there is always sacrifice. When you gain your talisman, what do you sacrifice?”
He wondered briefly if he was just rambling now and he hoped that Aras didn’t mind much. In his head he tried to see if Aras knew, or really felt, was sacrifice was. Reyes knew sacrifice, he knew it like an old friend. A cold fist seemed to fasten down on his throat and he swallowed hard. He remembered very well; Aokigahara. He quickly pulled out of that dark thought, not wanted to get into a depressed state right now. Reyes stepped over another large rock and listened for some sort of sign that they were nearing. It seemed to be taking longer then normal and Reyes wondered if the ruins didn’t want to show them that tree today.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Apr 28, 2009 19:49:50 GMT -5
“If you could read what were on these walls, Aras, then you’d know.”
Know what? Aras didn't need the inscriptions to tell him what a shaman was. They were mystics who possessed the ability to traverse both the physical and spiritual realms--meaning they were the only people who could communicate with Talismans that were not their own. Some could even communicate with the dead. This, however, was common knowledge to all who knew the Talisman lore.
"Can you?" he inquired. "Read the language, I mean."
Aras didn't immediately answer when Reyes brought up the topic of sacrifice. He wondered if Reyes was as familiar with sacrifice as he was. Willing or reluctant, all who lived in their world had given up something, whether trivial or valuable. Himself--he was a Hunter puppet, a tool that killed on command. The stomach-turning horror and revulsion that came with each kill had gradually faded until it had finally become no more than a dull pang of something akin to regret. The very thought that he had become used to taking lives... He shook his head in disgust.
What had he sacrificed? "Humanity, I suppose," Aras said quietly.
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Post by DesperateDark on Apr 28, 2009 20:38:11 GMT -5
"Can you?" Aras asked curiously. "Read the language, I mean."
“It’s… Well…” Reyes didn’t know how to explain it, how he ‘read’ but at the same time didn’t read the language written here. “I read it, but at the same time I don’t. It’s kind of like seeing the figures, then hearing them in your mind. You know what I mean?” He hoped he didn’t sound stupid. He was not taught in the language on the walls; he just ‘heard’ them in his head and knew what they meant; what stories they told. “Yeah, let’s just say I know the language.”
Aras didn’t respond immediately when he brought up the topic of, well, sacrifice. "Humanity, I suppose," Was Aras’s soft, almost timid, reply. Reyes stopped and looked back at him. Humanity? What did he mean by that? He couldn’t read his eyes behind the blindfold, and he couldn’t see in the gloom. “I see…” Came Reyes’s equally hushed reply. He didn’t understand completely Aras’s reasons, just like Aras would never understand his own reasons, but what could he do? If Aras wanted to tell him, then he would; Reyes wouldn’t force an answer. He turned and continued to lead Aras along, walking in silence and helping him when he stumbled.
At last, it seemed, the blue glow appeared. It was subtle and you could never look directly at it. No matter how many times you tried to track it down it always seemed to just linger in the corners of your eyes. Reyes heard it too; the voices. The voices that could only be heard by those they wanted to hear. “Hush…” Reyes put a finger to Aras’s lips. “Do you hear it?”
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Apr 28, 2009 23:29:02 GMT -5
Reyes had a rather roundabout way of answering 'yes.' "So you know what it means, but not necessarily what it says?" Kind of like art--a piece could evoke certain emotions from the viewer, but the artist could not speak directly to his audience through his work. It was odd but plausible. Besides, it was highly likely that this was an example of the ruins' arcane magic at work.
Aras felt questioning eyes upon him at his equivocal response concerning sacrifice, but beyond a hushed "I see," his guide said nothing. Thankful that Reyes did not pursue any discussion, Aras maintained their steady pace, doing his best to keep his footing. Neither spoke for a while.
"Hush..." Reyes whispered for no apparent reason, putting a silencing finger to his lips. Not that Aras had said a word for the past several minutes. “Do you hear it?”
He stood still, perplexed. Hear what? The sound of silence? The noises from the forest were no longer audible to them; where they stood with God only knew how many meters of earth above their heads, they could hear only the sound of each others' breathing. Not what you'd call profound. No, it had to be something else, something he had to search for instead of passively waiting for it to come to him.
A faint rustling, like wind through dry leaves--but there was no wind, and there were no leaves down here. And again, but from a different direction, and with a subtle yet distinctly different timbre. The sounds were as familiar as they were ethereal.
Voices.
Aras nodded, awed. It didn't even occur to him that Reyes would not be able to see. His mind burned with countless unasked questions, but it would be inappropriate to add a corporeal voice to the unearthly dialogues that surrounded them.
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Post by DesperateDark on Apr 29, 2009 16:21:58 GMT -5
At first Aras was still, then, when he really began to listen, he nodded, no doubt awestruck by the voices. Reyes listened to the outlandish voices for a moment before smiling again back at Aras – who couldn’t see anyways – and spoke, “You can hear them? Good.”
He continued leading Aras down the passageway, this time away from the blue glow. The strange thing was, as they walked farther away the glow seemed to slowly grow.
“You can speak if you want, they won’t stop, but you have to speak quietly,” Reyes stated, looking back at him as he lead him along. He didn’t have to look where he was going any longer; the voices told him everything. “Now, what do they tell you? You might not understand the language, but just repeat what you hear.”
Reyes doubted that Aras understood what the peculiar voices were saying, but there was also always a chance. It had been almost forever since he last lead a person into the ruins like this and the last one didn’t hear a thing when they came in here. Of course, that person was long gone, headed off to better things, but Aras could hear them, that was what counted.
“Here,” Reyes suddenly turned and pulled the blindfold off Aras. “Now, follow me.” Without so much as a warning he turned and ran off into the darkness.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Apr 29, 2009 17:39:23 GMT -5
Strangely, the voices did not fade as he and Reyes kept walking. In fact, Aras wasn't sure if he was really hearing them at all. The voices did not originate from actual vocal cords, so they did not produce any physical vibrations in the air that your eardrums would pick up as sound. No... somehow you just knew they were there, bodiless, speaking to each other and to you. The mind recognized things the senses could not.
What were they telling him? Aras hadn't the slightest clue. Nevertheless, he repeated the words to Reyes, tongue tripping over the unfamiliar syllables. "I've no idea what I just said. But you do?" It wasn't really a question; like with the inscriptions on the walls, Reyes could probably understand the spoken language as well.
Aras' eyes were met only with darkness when Reyes pulled off the blindfold--then, a faint blue glow, like that of phosphorescent algae, caught the edges of his vision. No matter how hard he tried to bring the glow into his direct line of sight, it remained evasively at the corners.
"Ah--Reyes, wait up!" As much as he wanted to stay and marvel at the phenomenon, the prospect of not getting lost down here was somewhat more appealing. The other man may have the ethereal voices to guide him, but all Aras had was the sound of Reyes' rapidly dwindling footsteps.
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Post by DesperateDark on Apr 29, 2009 18:16:26 GMT -5
Reyes could barely keep a straight face when Aras tried to repeat what he was hearing. ”I have no idea what I just said. But you do?” “Yeah, I understand, though you kind of did manage to mangle the message unpleasantly. Don’t worry though, they were just snatches of other conversations.”
Reyes only hung around long enough to see how Aras seemed to try and trace the blue glow with his eyes. When he turned tails and ran he could hear Aras calling out after him, ”Ah—Reyes, wait up!” Followed by rapid, running footsteps. Reyes could hear the voices telling them both where to go, but the other young man still didn’t seem to understand them, even under pressure.
He could only guess that there were many stages to the voices, ranging from being deaf to them, to hearing them to actually being able to understand them. Even he had a lot to learn himself, because there was no teacher, no sensei, to help him this time around. He must learn about the voices like he learned harsh realism.
Reyes stopped and looked back into the deep black, the glows still evading his direct line of sight, and called back to Aras, “Follow with your ears. If you lose me, run away from the glow, then you'll find me.”
He turned and this time continued at a slower pace instead of a full-out dash. He was walking away from the glow, yet it still stayed in the corners of his eyes. He knew what would happen or what could happen, he’d done it before. It was an odd little place he wanted to show to Aras, still untouched by the rest of the world.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Apr 30, 2009 2:11:38 GMT -5
The voices grew more authoritative, as if they were addressing Aras directly. Anything they told him, however, was lost as a jumble of foreign gibberish to his mind. Try as he might, he simply could not understand a word of the ancient language.
As he tried to navigate the passageways, Aras realized that he had not heard from the vulture in a while. It was currently standing in awed silence, listening intently to the unearthly speech. His Talisman seemed to understand more than he did, but it made no offer to act as translator. It was too absorbed to even be irritated at Reyes.
From a distance: “Follow with your ears. If you lose me, run away from the glow, then you'll find me.”
It alarmed him how far-off Reyes' voice seemed. Aras preferred not to lose him in the darkness (the phosphorescence didn't really provide that much light to see by). He wasn't too keen on the idea of walking away from the sole source of light, but that was what it sounded like the other man was doing. Resisting the impulse to break into a mad dash - chances were, he'd end up falling flat on his face instead of just stumbling occasionally - Aras heeded Reyes' words and turned his back on the blue glow.
As he strode briskly along, Aras wondered what else Reyes had to show him.
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Post by DesperateDark on Apr 30, 2009 7:40:54 GMT -5
Reyes heard Aras’ footsteps turning away from the light and he smiled to himself, but the footsteps soon faded off into the distance. They were heading down different paths, but if Aras listened to him they would end up in the same place anyways. He just hoped that the other man was smart enough to now knock himself out on the way (or do something else stupid for that matter).
He bent and took an old piece of wood, tapping it on the wall as he went so Aras could ‘follow him with his ears’, if he could hear it in the first place. What kind of Vulture did Aras have; New World or Old World? One of them was good with sight while the other was good with sound. He hoped that it was the latter of the two.
On the outside the Shaman Ruins didn’t seem to extend that far... At least that was true when above ground. Underground was a whole network of spaces, rooms and tunnels which both of them were navigating right now.
By the faint glow of whatever it was, Reyes traced the figure of one picture on the primeval stone wall. It depicted a Lion ready to seize upon a Gemsbok; both animals unattainable in Canada other then zoos. It was proof that this was the right place… And the evidence to onlookers that these talismans were real and not some fanatical townsfolk trying to attract notice.
All at once he was met by a stone wall that reached to the ceiling and went wall-to-wall. He wondered if Aras had been met with the same problem, but was undaunted by the obstacle. Closing his eyes he sang out what the voices told him, the familiar albeit unusual syllables and words flowing freely. When he opened his eyes again, the wall was still there… Only now it was transparent, and he could walk right through.
Who said enchantment wasn’t real?
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on May 2, 2009 18:07:47 GMT -5
There was dull, muffled tapping, ostensibly made by Reyes knocking something against a wall. Aras seemed to be walking parallel to it, but if he reached out to his left, towards the direction of the sound, his fingers met the packed earth of the tunnel's sides. Though they were heading down different paths, the vulture seemed unconcerned; this behavior was so atypical of her that Aras found himself feeling more relaxed than the situation probably warranted.
How long had they been walking? He'd lost track of time and space, completely out-of-touch with the above world. That they were no longer under the actual ruins was the only thing about which he was certain. This vast expanse of tunnels and passageways could in no way be contained underneath the visible portion of the ruins.
The vulture suddenly hissed something at him. Aras stopped, having nearly run headlong into a stone wall. Running his fingers along the bas-relief - a Manchurian crane, mid-flight - he pressed his forehead against the cool surface. A dead end. What now? Retrace his steps, try to find another path and hope it actually led somewhere?
Oh, be patient, the Lammergeier's expression told him. Listen. And he did.
The voices were reciting something, their speech falling and rising in supernatural unison. When they finished, they repeated the words, then fell into a meaningful silence. Hesitantly, Aras repeated the lines, still stumbling over the unfamiliar words. The vulture rolled its eyes. It wouldn't work if he butchered the language.
It took several tries, but he knew he eventually managed something passable, because the wall faded into insubstantiality right in front of his eyes and the hand he'd placed on it fell straight through. Disbelieving, he stepped cautiously to the other side. Something told him he shouldn't even begin to try to figure out what had just happened, so he kept moving forward, throwing a backward glance every so often.
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Post by DesperateDark on May 2, 2009 18:58:46 GMT -5
Reyes heard the slight stumble as Aras entered what the voices called the ‘Main Hall’. It was the ruins of a ceremonial passageway that lead to a main room, both ornately decorated and must have looked brilliant when they were new. There were the dilapidated wisps of what seemed like a type of cloth to use as adornment, the patterns almost impossible to attain back then. The ground had changed from dirt to a type of… Concrete? Tile? Whatever it was, it was embedded with ores and gems that were worn through but still interesting to look at.
The young man leaned against one of the wooden support posts, bent into an arch and carved lavishly, and waited for Aras. The arc lead into a domed room that was equally, if not more so bedecked then the rest of the place. There was writing on the walls and curved ceiling, the black paint discolored with age and the paintings greyed and faded. It was a pinnacle of culture; the original talismans left it as a legacy that so few knew about. And there was that light… It seemed to emit from nowhere, yet it was there. In the middle of the room grew an ancient twisted tree, curling this way and that and forming what looked like a throne.
”Be careful of the boy,” Came his Caribou’s familiar murmur. “Why? What’s wrong?” Reyes wasn’t one to usually even speak to his other side, but since he had some time before Aras got here so it was fair enough. ”He is treacherous… I suspect him to be of the Hunters. You mustn’t show your back lest you allow him to stab it.” In his minds’ eye Reyes could see the Caribou staring at him with its big black eyes, its rack of antlers balanced and smoke coming out of his nose it puffs as he spoke.
Reyes frowned, crossing his arms uneasily. “Truly?” It was only now he realized he was speaking out loud, but his Caribou answered with a nod. He thought about it; could Aras truly try to hunt him down? Hunters didn’t operate on an honor system, or at least not often anyhow. Was Aras one of those different ones, or was he going to try and kill him as soon as he realized he was an Undecided. Or worse, try to enslave him.
He turned his head as he heard footsteps approaching. Well, it was too late now anyways.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on May 3, 2009 0:27:46 GMT -5
Aras stopped short, not quite believing his eyes. The tunnel had widened into what could more rightly be called a hallway - a splendid, lavishly-decorated one - still lit by the inexplicable blue glow. While he could nearly touch the ceiling of the tunnels he'd been traversing until now, the hallway's ceiling stretched so far above his head that he could barely make out the elaborate writing and paintings it sported. The remains of once-resplendent tapestries lined the walls and stretched between the columns, which were carved with the familiar reliefs of the temple above ground.
His footsteps echoed strangely, and he noticed that he was no longer walking on packed earth but on some sort of tile or stone arranged in an intricate mosaic accented with gems and metals that caught even the soft blue light. Lifting his head, he spotted Reyes at the other end of the passageway, waiting for him. Aras took his time nonetheless, taking in the sights with visible awe.
Land, water, air. The painted and carved surfaces depicted all three, one flowing seamlessly into another, with creatures from each intermingling. The leopard cat looked on as her cubs tussled with the sea lion pups, whose mother conversed amiably with the quetzal. Predator and prey walked-flew-swam side-by-side; there was no need to hunt. No battles shown here--only celebration, joy, and life.
Aras peered into the adjacent room when he reached the arch, letting out a low, impressed whistle. From what he could see, it was more extravagantly decorated than the hall. "What is this place?" He'd said it barely above a whisper, but his voice still carried and echoed back from the walls.
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Post by DesperateDark on May 3, 2009 21:32:25 GMT -5
As Aras seemed to ogle the multiple designs and paintings on the wall, Reyes couldn’t help but have a brief thought of another person he had brought down here. It was actually pretty saddening, so he shoved that aside just as the other man peered past the arc and let out a low, yet awed whistle. ”What is this place?” He questioned in a low whisper, his voice echoing off the domed roof and stone walls anyways. Almost anything echoed down here, there was really nowhere for the noise to go.
“It’s a room, of course!” Reyes clapped him on the back and smiled. “You can go ahead and take a look around, nothing’s gonna get you down here.” He paused, a finger on his lip and a mischievous smile on his face. “Okay, maybe there’s moi, but you know I wouldn’t.” With that Reyes walked past Aras, the sweep had plenty of room for a few people to walk past at once, and sat down neatly on the root throne.
‘Blessed is the norm’ was what it said in a small bit of one stone wall. He smiled at that, nibbling in his pinky nail as he propped his head up with his hand, his elbow rested on his knee. What was the norm back then? It certainly wasn’t the same as it was right now, so what was blessed, exactly? He smiled to himself; people have said that watching him think was like watching him watch television. Reyes’ expression often changed with his thoughts, which could be dangerous no doubt.
Reyes got up and walked around to the other side of the knotted mass of roots and traced his fingers along a few of the woody vines. Over the many generations others had found this place too, there was writing carved into the roots in any language a person could imagine. But he wasn’t looking to see how many languages he could identify today, rather, he was looking for something that another person had carved here a while ago.
Carved into a little heart were two kanji. One stood for warrior, the other stoof for quick-thinking. Reyes smiled at that; how fond.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on May 4, 2009 18:06:11 GMT -5
“It’s a room, of course!” Reyes answered cheerfully, and rather uselessly.
"More specifically?" Aras followed Reyes - who, having plopped himself onto the gnarled tree-throne without hesitation, was clearly not a proponent of the 'look, don't touch' doctrine - into the room. By the glow emanating from who knew where, Aras made out details of the domed roof and painted walls. The architects had even thought to put perches at various heights throughout the room, presumably for the bird-shifters. Or perhaps the monkeys and lemurs could have made use of them. In spite of the lack of any breath of wind, the Lammergeier felt tempted to fly up there, never mind the extra effort that would take.
“You can go ahead and take a look around, nothing’s gonna get you down here. Okay, maybe there’s moi, but you know I wouldn’t.”
"Says the person who recently attempted to manhandle me," he muttered loud enough for Reyes to hear. He didn't resent the man for doing so, but Aras wasn't going to forget that incident anytime soon.
Too absorbed in his surroundings to notice Reyes staring fondly at something carved into the roots of the throne, Aras listened absently to the ubiquitous murmuring. "Reyes... these voices--are they ghosts, or are they something else?" Perhaps they belonged to the solitary Talismans--the ones who still sought their human counterparts.
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