nylathriasoulseer

[nylathriasoulseer]

Morena Baccarin

[nylathriasoulseer]

Time did flow differently for Nyla, for any longer lived kin and if Nyla was being truthful she was jealous of it. Witch, witcher, weverwolf, human they all lived with passion, a hunger to do as much as they could in such little time. Throughout the years she had seen their happiness, pain and loss, she was most jealous that they didn’t have to live long with a pain in their heart, that they were able to join their loved ones in a matter of years, that they went back into the wheel faster. “That's a beautiful legacy to want, there is a branch back in Avalon charged with a similar task, but they are far more pretentious than you are sweetheart.” This woman was far too empathetic to be anything close to the Elvhen nobles. “I feel like we definitely will be, you will have to visit me when I set up properly.” Once she got the loan for her shop. “My wife passed away.” There was no point shying away from the subject, after all it was her reality. “No! Don’t say that, I might as well be an ancient then. You just saying that they call you grandma is making me age a century. You’re to kind to me.”

"I suppose it's a bit different for me. I'll only exist for what must seem like a blink in time to you. I don't think I'll care if I'm forgotten, but it would break my heart if the knowledge I've added to the library was. All that I've researched and discovered will one day guide a witch who walks the same path as I did. To me, that's what a happy life looks like. One where my knowledge is passed from generation to generation." Calla knows she'll likely be alone forever. There won't be love or family in her future, the Astorians who harmed her made certain of that. Bonding with books and her writings so that they may live on for many years after her was the best she could hope for. "Nyla then, because I hope we can be friends," she says with a smile. Calla had only recently researched the elvhen soulbond and wanted to inquire, but she was smart enough to pick up on subtleties in language. "Used to" was past tense, and she felt she already had done enough to impact Nyla's mood negatively. "Oh please, you should hear how the other Olympians talk about the Scholars of Juno. I get called a grandma at least twice a week! Old, brown-covered crones flitting about the library, that's what they think of us. I don't mind though, because they'll never have access to the best reading spots. Not like you will now that we're friends."

[nylathriasoulseer]

It was a real shame that her in-laws didn’t look out for their own like she would have. If she only had enough time with Lyra they’d have a child of their own by now, she was envious that they had a child and furious they were to sacred to see him. If Auri was her son he’d have no doubt of her support for him. “Are you calling me old? Cheeky! But your right twenty years flys by quicker than it should.” What was twenty years to an elvhen who had already lived nine hundred? “Oh sweetheart that’s because they are scared. You know they love you right?” She didn’t need to read minds to know that they did. “Where are you staying?” Not on her watch will she let her nephew stay with strangers not when she had room. “How is your business? Did it survive?” She knew he had one and honestly she wasn’t one hundred percentage sure exactly what he traded but she was interested nonetheless.

He'd been without the light of the great tree for longer than he'd had it at this point, and it was clear plenty of his current awkward nature was conjured simply from that. They'd made a crucial mistake, something they'd live with for the rest of their shortened life, but they could try to make the most of it now." Auri's sister never ventured from the Moongate, his mother especially, worries of the Blight keeping them within Avalon and far from Auri. "Fair enough, twenty or so years probably feels like five minutes for you," they smiled in tandem with their witty comment; life had been grueling within Iskaldrik but he had built something for himself, and it'd all been torn apart since. There was nothing to show for losing his light; he was closer to poor, without his family, and only with the company of thieves. "It's good to see you," though he's lost the Light, he still can't lie, "No one else really ventures out of the moongate anymore." Not any of the elvhen he knew and cared for anyhow.

[nylathriasoulseer]

A similar faction was all she needed to hear, a nightingale had given him her contact information, it must be something important if her the details of her ability had been given out. Thought if it wasn't, or if she was in a hint of danger she would have to move and make sure no nightingale knew where she went. There was a line and having this man come in without a hint of candour was it. Moving from behind the counter Nyla made her way to the door and locked it, switching an open sign to closed granting them a small sense of privacy.

"They are fallen branches for a reason, information is scarce. It was so long as so much was lost, i'm sure there were many who tried to recover and document." Nyla also new that sometimes it was for the best that folk didn't know the truth. A creature? well no Elvhen would admit to that, she had met recently a dragon who had an Evlvehn form and a Deamonfey with a human one, so there was no telling what exactly stood before. Why did such being always seek her out here in her store. "Well if you are a friend to my people what is your name? who are you and why did you seek me out?"

"She's of a similar faction of yours," no, that certainly did not help but much like any dragon he could easily take someone in circles if meant only stating what he wished to say. Their nose scrunched, that clear sense of draconic impatience shining through despite the fact he'd been trying to relate to and gain the trust of this seer. "Focus not on the one who told me of you and your shop," there was still that level of protection where Talisa was concerned and though she'd discovered this seer's shop, the Steel dragon had offered little to nothing when it came to crucial information towards it. Aetherian's could be lurking anywhere and Fyren had been careful, gathering his own information where he could be best prepared and safe when approaching another.

Even an elvhen could truly be the enemy but he tried not to let his leery nature of Aetheron pollute every interaction with every person he'd met since. "You each sit here with the knowledge of the fallen branches but let them remain in oblivion," it wasn't these younger elvhen's fault; those who were not around for the war but had to pick up the pieces. Still, this one was older than most, but still far enough separated from the Cataclysm that had supposedly destroyed his home entirely. "A creature, yes, of nefarious means, no. I'm a friend to the elvhen, perhaps I'd have once been called a seer, too. A Dreamer is more apt." He wondered how far her knowledge went, how far her talents soared; Fyren often bloated the capabilities and confidence of others, but he felt an inclination that she was someone he was looking for when it came to restoring the lost tendrils of those tied to the Fade and the veil.

[nylathriasoulseer]

How awfully vague of him, a friend of his could quite literally be anyone and a shared interest could honestly be that they both like a glass of wine. It wasn’t overly compelling nor reassuring. “This friend have a name?” If it was somone she trusted then she could worry less about the man asking such personal questions, could trust her friends to not send a maniac to her door. But if it was one of them why not say their name immediately, his vagueness lead her to believe it was a different case. “I have a lot of interest perhaps you could tell me which one we share?”

“Well I know that but no other Elvhen has shown interest in that. So why are you?” It wasn’t like Nyla had a branch to teach her, she had been by herself where her ability had been concerned and she had learned lesson the hard way. “The same as most Elvhen, less then you I’m assuming.” The fact that he used her name brought her mentally to a halt. “I’m no elder but I know when something smells off. So here’s the thing if you are a creature of nefarious means I’m going to ask you to kindly leave. I’m not in the market for what you are selling.” There were to many flags for her to ignore them. Something was wrong, she couldn’t put her finger on it but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

Nightingales' tongues were bound when it came to their secrets, tidbits and whispers of information they could only exchange to one another. Still, Talisa had brought this soul seer up idly and Fyren could appreciate the nudge in the right direction. Unconsciously his mind could dream, fractured glints and faint whispers of the Fade they once were apart of so inherently, but there was still much work to be done on a talent that had grown rusted and stale. Perhaps this elvhen was not the absolute as an answer but she was someone familiar with the act of scrying and that was enough for the dragon to be curious of her mind and abilities. "A friend of mine has a common interest of yours," as though that would allow her not to be wary, but still Fyren did not have much to hide.

"It is an art nearly lost," neglected, certainly, as Fyren glanced around the shop; this elvhen dedicated herself to spell scrolls and enchantments rather than the pattern of any scry. "Tell me, do you know anything of the Dreamers, Nylathria?" He was meant to be in hiding, obscured from the wrath of any Aetherian, but Fyren had grown restless, and he desired to return to the roots he knew well.

[nylathriasoulseer]

[nylathriasoulseer]

It was difficult but Nyla had to accept Freydis complement even if she didn’t believe it herself, they would argue the point in circles if not and it wasn’t very hostly to do so. Freydis was right that they need wit, unorthodox thinking if they were going to stand a chance, but was Nyla one of those minds? Well Nyla would debate the point but if she could supply those who could and would through this store then that was a small win in her books.

A female jarl stood right in-front of her, if she had been hundreds of years younger she might have preached about the injustices, about the oppressed. She knew it was wrong but had Nyla ever felt that oppression? No. She’s only ever heard the horror stories, but this wasn’t a recent development for the country. “Are you scared that everything you fought for, your jarldom will be taken from you?” It was a very real fear and one she could understand because if nothing chances and her connection to the veil and fey were found out, well she’d go to the mines. Nyla didn’t know much about the responsibility of a title, looking out for so many but she did know regret, the lingering things unsaid. “Would you regret leaving this world without trying to change that?” Loaded question Nyla jeez.

“Well every Elvhen has an ability, some can manipulate the elements, some can speak to animals. There’s a whole array out there. Mine is to read souls.” One that has yet to help her find her wife but that was a matter of time. “Well it normally depends on how willing the soul is to be read, when we were fighting at the stones I read Lohezet soul, there was no saving them from themselves.”

“Your quick thinking shifted the tide of the battle,” Freydis insisted, her eyes shining with genuine belief as she spoke. “When the refugees of Iskaldrik fought their way to Lysara’s borders, I was caught in many fights. Ones we thought were futile, that we could never hope to win. And we did–only because of the many hands and many talents that brought wit, quick thinking, and knowledge into the battlefield. Not every battle can be won by blade and fist alone,” Freydis continued. “In fact, most these days cannot.” 

Freydis eyes scanned the ground in front of them when Nyla spoke of souls making it back to the wheel; or not. The veil maiden wanted to live, was hungry for all Taravell had to offer outside of Iskaran borders and some few things still within. But she had resigned herself to fight, including to the death if it came to that. As Nyla spoke, Freydis wondered if her fear lived truly in death itself, or fear she would never return to the Wheel to live again. Or perhaps even that if the world could not defend itself fiercely enough against the Aetheron and the Dark One that there would be little humanity left in the world she was born back into. Her expression turned grim at the thought. 

“Not enough,” she said quietly. Then again, there was never a time in Freydis’ life when she reviewed her efforts and felt they had met the mark she set for herself. “For the first handful of years, I did little but fight to maintain the title. After that wore off, I tried to make the Midlands better.” In many ways, she had. It was a frequently overlooked region, but she had brought it to some small level of prominence. It was not the home of the famed ironwood, it was not a bustling economic center full of artisans and crafters, it was not home to powerful nobles, but it was important. They produced livestock, some of the strongest horses, and most of the agriculture that upheld the kingdom, and that much Freydis could be proud of. She had made incremental improvements to the lives of fieldhands and farmers that added up over time. She had supported her parents as they aged and made sure they had comfortable lives. In a moment of perhaps avoidable rage, she had demonstrated the power of female rage and ambition in front of the whole of Orhan’s court. But she could have done more for the ignored, hidden population of Iskaldrik; those with magic in their veins. “You saw it… my connection to the veil, to the fey.” In Iskaldrik, she wouldn’t have just been sent to the mines, as a figure of authority and a woman who dared to step into the arena of leadership most felt she did not belong in, she would have been dragged through the streets as a spectacle in every town and hollow between the Midlands and the mines. 

“What do you mean you could look at my soul?” Freydis asked, intrigued and frightened of the idea all at once. “How? What would you see?”

[nylathriasoulseer]

Hundreds of years ago before many that roamed this world were born Nylathria had made a small fortune reading souls, there had been a market for it … maybe there still was but she wasn’t going to incentivise idiots charge to their death over what she had revealed to them. When a customer entered her store that had just acquired an expansion in what they stocked came in her eyes picked up from the ledger infront of her to greet them, but they cut her off before she had chance. How did he know that? She didn’t make it a habit to tell this generation of her power, perhaps an Elvhen? “Now a stranger knowing such details about me makes me a little anxious. What do you want a soul seer for?” She was used to more small talk before the talk of souls, but he had her intrigued at the very least.

starter for @nylathriasoulseer.

where: eterna

when: current timeline, maybe like a fraction before the madness of the last quest

note: seers aye

Fyren had let his protective nature of the Steel dragon place them in hiding for most of this time, abilities that had been untouched for decades under control of the Aetherian's still lay neglected, but his own impatience and teetering arrogance allowed Fyren to finally face himself. He could not do it alone, however, and that was where he'd come to discover this elvhen, a seer, a tether to ages long past. Entering her store, Fyren wasted no time, approaching the elvhen at her counter, "I've little interest in your spell scrolls, truly, I'm more interested in you and your abilities. I've heard of you, a seer, one of the souls." When a dragon vied for something, they normally made their demands pretty apparent and Fyren was sure they were direct to the elvhen.

[nylathriasoulseer]

“I have fallen victim to it. It made me think you taken my healing potions and emptied them on the ground.” Nyla couldn’t help but say the truth and it was coming out faster then her mind could dance around it. “Well I must not forget that.” Even if it was self proclaimed and was such she could always assume there was a slight exaggeration intertwined in there. “I’m sadly as sturdy as I look.” It wasn’t like she would fall over in a strong breeze but when assaulted by swords and magic she was likely to fall victim to it faster then Agnes. “Would you like a cup of tea Agnes?” She invited the other “it’s about closing anyway and I have small lodgings above so the teas not far.” It would be nice to have company even if it was for a short while and well so far Agnes wasn’t so bad.

"Sometimes confidence clouds the mind," she was speaking of herself of course, she was young in this lifetime, brash and overconfident by nature, but Agnes often felt her talents spoke for themselves. She'd traversed the Arches already, pledged herself to Hekate, and even gone along on this missive to restore the stones and stop a cult from fracturing the palantir further. So be it if sometimes she tripped and stumbled, Agnes liked to believe her successes made up for any such moments. "I'm much sturdier than I appear," a genasi of the wilds, she leant into the beasts and monstrosities gifted to her abilities and it lent her well. "It's you I'm glad to see standing," Nylathria was near death at some point of their mission. "-no matter any differences." The mirror seemed essential, an oddity she hoped to bring to the standing stones to investigate further.

[nylathriasoulseer]

[nylathriasoulseer]

The notion was a sweet one, to be immortalised in such a fashion, but Nyla was okay to float into history's forgotten names if it meant she could find her wifes soul. She wasn’t out here for glory, fame, wealth, no she was out here for Lyra. “That’s a beautiful thought but I don’t mind being a footnote in what’s recorded.i just want to live a happy life.” Which seemed more impossible by the day. “I’m Nylathria but my friends call me Nyla.” And even some who weren’t her friends called her that “calla is a beautiful name.” And one she could now use if she ever had to amplify a spell to cast upon her, names had power, Nyla knew this well. “You had me sold comfort. There’s nothing quite like a cozy reading space. At home I have a chair in my room that my wife used to laugh at me for. Said I used to look like a mortal grandmother.”

The wheel weaved, one of the first lessons taught to Novices in the Tower rang true in Calla's mind at Nyla's words. Fate had plans for all and would inevitably remember some while trampling others into forgotten oblivion. "Back where I come from, I'm nobody too. Here though, as insignificant as I may be, I am someone. You are too, because we've met and you'll never be forgotten now. The quill is powerful, and when I write your name in my journals as a friend, you'll be immortalized in my records. People will know that we met here today." It wasn't much, but Calla knew that the knowledge contained in the library would last for lifetimes. "Oh, I never actually got your name. I'm Calla," she shares, her mood uplifting immediately as she got to gush about the Tower.  "You'll love it. A space designed by witches who understand the importance of comfort while getting lost in a good book is probably the most serene location you could find in this nation. Come, the Scholars of Juno don't turn away anyone who appreciates the value of knowledge," she says excitedly, taking Nyla's hand to lead her.

[nylathriasoulseer]

Who: @faelortianyou

Notes: let me know if this needs changing

Nylathria was guilty of indulging in a glass of wine or two. When the world was dark at least there was wine. Shed been in a dark place in her life a couple hundred years ago where it was got her up in the morning. But thanks to her friend she developed a healthier relationship with the liquid. She didn’t rely on it to numb her feelings but enjoyed the taste now. She had acquired a couple bottles and held them in her arms as she made her way home. But on her travels towards her home she spotted a familiar face one from the standing stones “Tianyou right? Nylathria.” Just in case he had forgotten. “How are you feeling after the stones?”

[nylathriasoulseer]

[nylathriasoulseer]

The Feywilds changed perception, tricked the mind into seeing what didn’t happen or at least convincing it with conviction that it did. Such a tricky place and one that had baffled her own mind into believe she had been stolen from. She remembered how petty she had planned on being at the time. She wasn’t proud of it but yet she didn’t seek the other out either. The shop was small so Nyla noticed when Agnes entered, there wasn’t that much to hide behind. She was dealing with the customer in front of her with a warm smile, wishing them a good day as they left with there new spell scrolls. Once they had left her gaze went to Agnes "I suppose it is, i assume we both fell foul of its nature." Jeez Nyla you couldn't just admit that you falsely accursed her in your mind could you? "How have you recovered from your injuries?" she asked trying to turn the subject onto something else that wasn't her being wrong.

starter for @nylathriasoulseer.

where: nyla's shop

when: maybe a few days after standing stones quest

note: you did not ask but here i am

Agnes entered the shop, the two had said little to each other after the polluting of the Feywilds, but the energy between them was still riddled with unfortunate tension. If she did not value what this wizard could offer as an ally, Agnes would have left well alone, but the genasi was also wretchedly curious as to the likes of her mirror, and would in turn vouch for her own innocence when it came to the accusation that she'd stolen Nyla's potions. Her eyes browsed over the scrolls, some she could recognize were etched in goblin, some sylvan; Agnes could appreciate the variety. A customer left, their satchel filled with spell scrolls and once the bell at the door alerted Agnes of their departure, she loomed near and noted, "The feywilds are a challenge for even the strongest of minds." In her own cryptic ways it was an apology for falling to their wills, but she could think of no other way to breach the conversation.

[nylathriasoulseer]

Nyla was waiting with baited breath for this explanation that would make sense of why her best friend would become sliver. But what she heard was baffling, when did the weave speak? maybe it was metaphorical but Nyla wasn't goining to miss the opportunity to tease her friend. "Oh really? the weave? what did it sounds like? I have seen its patterners so many time and it's never reached out to me, rude quite honestly."

"Well its just over this way, its called the lonely scroll." but if her friend had just come back it was unlikely she heard of the new shop in the city. Nyla didn't miss a beat of hugging her friend, if anything she held onto her a little tighter because she could have lost her in that battle. Now she was going to lose her to old age, she was going to be truly lonely when that came to pass. "You wouldn't believe what i have seen recently, part of me wanted to go back and hide in Avalon after" being blasted with a spell that was intended to kill was frightening.

“In my eternal defense,” Lailani begins, a hand moving to hover over her heart as she mentally flits through her list of explanations, trying to come up with one that skirts close enough to the truth that she can actually speak, but far enough that Nyla would not call her reckless for it. After a few seconds of deliberate silence, however, she gives up with a shrug, hand dropping as she approaches her with a quick smile. “Yeah, I have nothing. You know I follow the Weave’s prompting, and despite my desire to return home, it told me to stay.”

Immortality will be sorely missed, but there is more to life than eternity. If the Weave’s design was for Lailani to face the realities of mortality, so be it, she would face them gladly as long as she can be of help to those who need it.

“A spot of tea would do nicely,” she agrees easily as she opens her arms and wiggles her brows to encourage the elvhen to reach in for a hug. “There is much we must catch up on.”

[nylathriasoulseer]

It was rare for her to get a compliment... the last one she knew was truly genuine she got over six hundred years ago from her wife before they had a big argument about her leaving to fight for something she had no right to be involved with. Fighting for other, protecting strangers that had been Lyras thing, Nyla had always been selfish in a way, that unless it was directly effecting her why should she fight for it. She had centuries to think about her action to let her wife leave without her, it was her own pettiness that had gotten the better of her. Shed lost her eternal love, it had left her hollow, lonely. "I only did what i thought would work. I would have tried to counter her magic if i had been closer." Nyla wasn't like most caster, from memory she only knew spells that could control the shape of battle, very few would do harm.

“Yes, Andoral.” Nyla confirmed that Freydis had the correct one in her head. “I’ll be honest I’m not sure what it was for. I could assume it was a part of a much larger scheme to summon the dragon. Life’s were lost and those souls had to go somewhere and If I had to hazard a guess the souls probably didn’t return to the wheel.” But it was just speculation and guess work, nothing concrete to confirm what had happened.

A jarl? Well wasn’t this an interesting turn of events. Nyla would have never thought Freydis capable nor willing proliferating that kind of hurt. Being a Jarl was being part of the system of hate in Iskaldrik. But how was a Jarl to survive if they didn’t fit into the system, they would become a victims of it if the stood out. That proverb of the nail that sticks out get hammered comes to mind. “And what did you do as Jarl?” Maybe her initial appraisal of Freydis was wrong but she wasn’t going to come to any conclusions until she heard the others words. “What is the full truth? If you can say it to them, try me I’ve seen a lot in nine hundred years I doubt you’d surprise me.”

Had another form and could go through the arches. There was more going on here and she wasn’t sure exactly what it was. “I could offer you something, I don’t offer this a lot anymore whole lot of bad experience with people not understanding nuance. But I could have a look at your soul.” A lot of the world has forgot her power, most of those mortals were long dead now and it really was just the Elvhen who knew about her gift to see, read souls.

Her hazel eyes shifted back to Nyla when the Elvhen spoke her name, and Freydis tried to take her words to heart. Nylathria was not the first to impart advice on her that was easier heard than executed, but like the others Freydis would try to accept and enact what she was told in degrees day by day. “I’m not sure if all of that is true,” she responded in a quiet, sheepish tone. Freydis had returned to this turn of the world to fight for it, to defend those who lived in it regardless of species or creed, and it warmed her to receive such praise from Nyla. Unfortunately, she was terrible at taking compliments. She nodded at the last part of what Nyla said, but made an effort not to look too sullen. Pain in its many forms ripped into her daily, but she knew she was not alone in this. “Well, I’m glad you were able to return. And that you were there to fight with us–your quick thinking to dispel Kansaldi’s magic, even if they foiled you,” she said in praise. “I wouldn’t have thought to try myself if it weren’t for your lead to follow…” She had to stop herself from expressing that she was afraid the party might kill Eivor in his draconic state, the lump that rose in her throat at the memory making it easy to cut her off before she revealed too much. “I hope what happened won’t dissuade you from lending a hand in the future.”

“Andoral?” Freydis confirmed that she had the right name for the dragon and subject of the cult. All of this was clearly news to Freydis, who had been so focused on cleansing the trapped components of the guardian statue elsewhere in the temple. “Do you know what the purpose of the ritual had been?” Freydis knew she would not have been brave enough to stay, regardless of who had been in the room. Some things she had the mettle to push through, but she suspected any entity of despair would find the cracks of her self-doubt and chasms of grief an easy target. 

“I was a jarl,” she heard herself confess, though the greater part of her wished she hadn’t. Given she had been the only female jarl who’s lionized history was well-known in Iskaldrik and likely throughout many regions of the continent they now inhabited. Certainly Aurea, one of the closest neighbors to the fallen kingdom, had known of the supposedly great and fearsome Icefang. “Now I don’t think the prince–high king,” she corrected herself, “and the hand would look at me if they knew the full truth.” She had kept her cards close to her chest until the battle in Fharzai’s dreamscape, and she was perhaps less judicious about her fey-touched abilities than she would have been before. But still, her upbringing conditioned her with mistrust and suspicion of other Iskarans, particularly her peerage in positions of authority. 

Freydis was surprised by Nylathria’s optimism that magic was within reach across the board. Perhaps through scrolls and enchanted objects she was right, but Freydis knew so little on the matter. She still didn’t know if her magic was her own, or something Nintra had imparted with her–or perhaps a strange arcane halflife from them crossing paths at all. But despite the fact Freydis had not spoken as much aloud, she wanted more, wanted her abilities to expand and deepen. “Sorry,” she muttered quietly, it was not the first time the lack of foundation of what she was or what she might be becoming had gotten the better of her. “Well, you’ve seen I have, um…. Another form. And I can step through the mists, a few other minor spells, interrupt magic like you can. And, um… Well, I’m not entirely certain this would qualify as access to magic, but I went through the Arches.” It was clear the last piece of information she shared was not one she disclosed often or lightly.

[nylathriasoulseer]