Yaonemitl Arrives

Log Info

• Title: Yaonemitl Arrives

• Emitter: Cuemoni

• Characters: Cuemoni, Seldan, Zeke

• Place: Temple of Eluna

Temple of Eluna, evening.

The sky is, on this evening, shrouded from Eluna's light by the ink-spilled cover of dark rainclouds that throw down cold rain on an unflinching eastern wind. It's an unhappy evening, one that sees people running for cover as they duck into buildings and underneath patios and parasols. But two makari make their way at their own pace to the Temple, clawed hand in clawed hand, and open up the front doors.

Cuemoni's golden eyes peer out from under the hood of the furred cloak that is wrapped about her body. "This one is grateful that this one did not paint much besides the eyes, and the head symbols," she says. "If this one did not have a cloak--they would have all been washed away."

She looks to her companion and lets out a small comforted smile now that they're out of the rain. "Cihuaa's honored kin may be found here?" she asks. "In the temple of the Dreaming Dragon?"

The cold is a biting thing, and the rain only worsens it. Zeke is... in a word - miserable. The cold is far from a beloved thing for the sith-makar, but this chill rain seems determined to sink into his bones and he shudders from time to time both from the cold and from the darkness that lingers on the edges of his thoughts during the winter months. He is grateful then, to have Cuemoni by his side. Her presence brings a cheer that would not be there otherwise to his heart.

Green eyes roam the familiar environment of the temple and he nods once in answer to Cuemoni's question. "He ssshould be." He offers slowly. The cold makes him feel so tired. He tries to shake the lassitude away with another shudder. "Let usss find sssome-one to find him for usss yesss?"

Finding Seldan, in the end, takes a few minutes only, and is a matter of simple inquiry in a Temple that is quieter than usual on this mess of an evening. Before long, the acolyte sent to find him returns with the man in question, bright fire-gold hair unmistakable even at distance. Closer, he wears the same shirt and trousers, and blue and silver robe, that he always does, but his feet are booted, a thing that is not always so within the temple's confines. He pauses a moment at the door, then proceeds forward, following the acolyte to approach them.

"Thank you, Meila," he tells the girl, who turns and, with a shy little wave, takes herself back into the confines of the Temple quarters in the back. His tones are steady, even, and outwardly serene as ever. "Kin - and your cihuaa." He pronounces the word easily enough. "Her light upon both of your path. Would that I had a hearth to offer you," he adds, looking both sodden makari over. "How may I serve you?"

Upon seeing Seldan, Cuemoni reaches up with her free hand to pull down her cloak. It reveals the turquoise scales and somewhat damp-looking red symbols that Seldan had seen before, smudged a little by contact with moisture in the air from the downpour of the cold rain. The lines painted around her golden eyes are a tad smudged, as well, but otherwise are intact. "The warmth of your words serves as hearth enough, honored kin of this one's cihuaa," Cuemoni intones with a bow of her head, indicating respect to him. "This one traveled here with Zeke to wish you well and to impart good news and greetings."

Her tail already wraps around Zeke's, just a little at the tip. "Cihuaa, go ahead." An act that is telling of its own--she does not speak for him.

Zeke lowers his own hood at the sight of Seldan, a warm look set onto his features. It is notable, probably particularly to Seldan, that Zeke is in fact sporting a similar lines of paint on his own scales. Not exactly the same as Cuemoni's, but similar. "Perhapsss we might offer you a hearth inssstead kin?" Amusement laces his tone. "We have found at lassst, a comfortable nessst to call our own, and though it will require ssssome work... We wisssh for you to be the firssst to be invited to sssee it, and to know that you are alwayssss welcome there."

His own tail-tip curls around Cuemoni's.

The paint of the scales, even protected by cloaks, is not lost on Seldan. He might not know its exact meaning, but the association is clear. This is formal, and he inclines his head politely. "Your invitation honors me. Nothing would please me more than to see my kin's home," he answers. The words are carefully chosen, although the nuance may be lost on the sith-makar. "Is it within the city walls?" He unconsciously assumes a parade-rest stance, relaxed and comfortable while still formal.

GAME: Seldan rolls bluff: (2)+15: 17

"It is not," Cuemoni responds to Seldan's question. "This one is happiest in the nature, close to the spirits that this one works with and entreats to, and Cihuaa did not wish to be in Mictlan. He found a softskin home that had not been occupied for a year in the wilderness. It has a room we have chosen for honored kin to stay in, as you would like." Her voice is tender, even a bit excited.

Her tail curls a little closer to Zeke's. "This one will be working on the gardens that your room would look on. There is much work to do on the house. But it will be a home."

Zeke tilts his head a little at Seldan and chuffs at him. "Why are you being so formal kin? Did you think that you would not be welcome?" He gives the other man a fond look. "Thisss one would not accept sssuch. Thisss one, and Cuemoni alssso, want you to have a plasce in our home."

Seldan lowers his eyes to the marble floor between them, and it is quite clear that that is exactly what the paladin had been thinking. "You are kind, and you honor me, but I would not so burden you. Your home is yours, and it is right that it should be so." An awkward silence follows the words, and his eyes remain on the floor, resembling to softskins nothing so much as a boy expecting punishment.

Cuemoni makes a soft and sympathetic noise, her golden eyes trained on Seldan. "But you are Cihuaa's honored kin. There is no one else that this one would be more comfortable in opening the home to as a guest. This one would embrace you as honored kin in the same way this one has embraced Cihuaa as he is." Her voice is genuine in that offer.

"This one... has learned a bit of the personality that Cihuaa's past mate was since this one last spoke to you," Cuemoni then admits. "This one is still... astounded by the meanness that can exist in one's heart for one that they would call cihuaa. So this one endeavors to be open and warm, like the hearth-fire on a winter night. Welcoming of all. This one wishes for honored kin to visit Cihuaa as frequently as he did before this one became Cihuaa's companion--Zeke's companion." She says his name for emphasis. He is not just Cihuaa, after all--to Seldan, he is Zeke, honored family, chosen family.

Zeke takes in Seldan's posture, his lowered eyes and his discomfort which are so familiar to him. Mostly... because he has done this so many, many times himself. And every time Seldan has done for him, what he does for Seldan now. He offers to his kin his flesh-and-blood claw. Just offers it without any strings attached. "You are no lesss important to thisss one than you were before thisss one found Cuemoni, Ssseldan. Ssshe iss not..."

He swallows, her name difficult for Zeke even to think of. "Ssshe isss not Cryossanthia. Ssshe will never disss-ressspect you. Ssshe will not make you feel out-ssside. Ssshe will not make you feel lessss than the honored kin that you are to thiss one. Jussst asss sshe will not harm thisss one with wordsss or flesssh." He says these things with certainty, not only because he is certain of Cuemoni herself, but because... he is finally at long last... Certain of himself.

The offering of the claw comes as a surprise, a gesture that Seldan knows well. The words, too, seem to mean to him something that has not previously been said. He looks up, when he sees the claw, and automatically reaches to take it with his own hand, taking it between his two hands, gently and with no heed for claws. "Then I shall come and visit you, as often as you wish. Know that I shall not refuse a genuine invitation, nor shall I go where I am not desired to be. I am honored that both of you should think of me so."

In that moment, he straightens, once more the confident and calm man he has previously shown Cuemoni. "Does she find your confidence, then so, too, shall she find mine, for not lightly is your trust given." He continues to hold the hand, although it is a hold that Zeke will know he can pull away from without difficulty, should he wish to.

It is then that he turns to Cuemoni. "It is in my mind that Cryosanthia's mind was not wholly her own, and that she was less than sound of mind to begin with. That she was less malicious than negligent, caring for none save herself. The wounds she left ran deep, and I know not where she is now, nor do I care to know, save only that she be gone from this place."

Cuemoni makes a happy sound when Seldan and Zeke hold hands, kin reaching out to touch kin. She's touched by the moment, so happy to see that Zeke can so comfortably give him that gesture. Zeke's remarks regarding his past companion and Seldan's in turn only serve to make her happier. This is a good place, with good people. Herself, her cihuaa, and honored kin.

"This one cannot claim to be capable of healing the wounds left behind," Cuemoni says, "but this one has always told Zeke--this one will do this one's very best to not hurt Zeke again. This one will only ever try to be the good partner that Zeke needs. This one will inevitably, at times, fail, because this one is mortal--but this one will not ever be malicious in the way that Zeke's past companion was to him."

She nods. "This one would rather not think of her," she says. "Only to focus on the future ahead."

Outside in the halls, however, there's some noise. The sound of urgent footsteps. And the voice of what sounds to be another sith-makar, this one a deep bass. "Shaman Cuemoni! If you are in there, come out."

Zeke continues to allow Seldan to hold his claw. Even when he could - maybe even should - he is gentle with Seldan. They have a shared history in that personage. A shared pain. Zeke wants to comfort Zeke and to comfort himself with the knowledge of the present.

Only the sound of someone calling for Cuemoni draws Zeke's claw softly from Seldan's grasp, confusion flickering across his features as he glances toward his cihuaa. "Do you recognize thisss voisce?" Though he tries to hide the expression from his features, he feels a tiny touch of concern over the fact that someone is making a commotion outside looking for her.

In that instant, even when the claw is withdrawn, Seldan immediately steps between the two sith-makar and the new voice, his entire demeanor shifting in the blink of an eye. No longer is the lonely man or the boy in evidence. Left in its place is the paladin, confident and assured and ready to shield his chosen kin from danger. "Show yourself," he commands, calmly. "You are in the Temple of the Dreaming Dragon, and I shall not abide threats to those within."

Mind yourself, the tone reads, the words holding a polite but clear warning.

Cuemoni's golden eyes nictate when she hears the voice and sees Seldan already going to the defense of his temple. Her tail turns into a little tremble around Zeke's. "It can't be," she says softly. "Why?"

Upon Seldan's request, the sith-makar reveals himself by opening the door. There is a sith-makar of golden scales, broad-shouldered and tall in a way that suggests he is a warrior. Like Cuemoni, he is ornamented with paint, although his has run down his scales on account of not wearing a cloak of any sort to ward him from the weather. It gives him the appearance, almost, of being covered in little rivers of blood. "This one means no threat. This one is merely looking for the Shaman Cuemoni. This one is Warrior Yaonemitl, of the Xiuhcoatl tribe, sent with a message for the Shaman. May this one come in?"

In an effort to reassure Cuemoni, Zeke steps slightly forward and curls his tail more securely around hers. "Thisss one isss here." He offers her in a low voice, trying to comfort her as the male enters the doorway. He allows himself to take stock of the golden-scaled male. A warrior. He feels his face frowning - in the sith-makar - fashion. A warrior bearing a message? It's certainly unusual. "That, isss up to Cuemoni."

Seldan does not immediately move. Though unarmed and appearing to be unarmored, and wearing attire more closely sited to a shaman than a warrior. "That is for the shaman to decide," he echoes Zeke, his tones remaining even, and relenting somewhat. "What say you?" The question is clearly for Cuemoni.

Cuemoni clearly is not pleased with this development, but she looks between Seldan and Zeke, and the gratitude in her golden eyes shines through that they would both not assume her comfort with the situation. "Is it from the Elder?" It is the only question she asks.

"It is," Yaonemitl responds.

"Then you may give it from the doorway," Cuemoni responds, "and then you will be off." Her tail is now shaking like a rattle, like she is preparing for something or someone to strike.

But Yaonemitl does not. Not with weapon, at least. "The Elder Chimalxochitl has passed on into the waters of Xiuhcoatl's embrace," he announces. "We look towards the sun and feel joy in our hearts for her passing."

Cuemoni's golden eyes nictate again, and she stills. "We look towards the sun and feel joy in our hearts for her passing," she murmurs, but in the way that a person does in the wake of receiving something horrible. She looks to Zeke and... She reaches out to him. It is the first thing that she can think of doing.

Zeke doesn't hesitate to offer his claw to her, to draw her into his embrace and comfort her. "Sssa." He murmurs the sound comfortingly to her. He does not know her tribe well, but the passing of any of the People is a sadness. He turns his green eyes on the warrior and meets his gaze. "Thisss one offersss you wordsss of gratitude for bringing usss thisss knowledge."

Even if it is sad news, even if it is not what any of them want to hear, he does not wish to be rude.

Although Seldan is unfamiliar with the customs of the makari, particularly of this tribe, the meaning is clear enough, and this exchange is not for him. It remains to him only to ensure the peace and sanctity of the temple in its resolution, and the protection of those within. He remains silent, maintains his stance between them, intending clearly to move only if instructed.

Yaonemitl looks at the interaction between Zeke and Cuemoni, and for a long moment, he does not say anything, until he says, "This one was the last to visit the Elder before she passed. The Elder granted this one knowledge of her last vision: that this one would become the next leader of the tribe."

And here he looks at Cuemoni, like Zeke and Seldan are not in the room. "And that this one would take Shaman Cuemoni for a mate, and that the nest of eggs that this one would have with the Shaman Cuemoni would hatch all turquoise hatchlings, and that they would all live. Xiuhcoatl has placed favor upon this one. It is foretold. Shaman Cuemoni, you must return to Am'shere and fulfill the Elder's last vision."

Cuemoni stares at Yaonemitl before she growls, an unhappy and angry noise. "No," she says. It's a complete sentence.

Zeke's green eyes narrow at the Yaonemitl. He does not growl. He does not need to. Cuemoni is entirely capable of speaking for herself. Which she does. No, is a complete sentence. It has taken him a while to learn this, but it is truth. He says nothing, because he does not need to. Cuemoni has spoken. Her word is the final one.

GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (16)+24: 40
GAME: Zeke rolls Sense Motive: (10)+9: 19

If Zeke says nothing, Seldan stiffens, and straightens to his full height. "Warrior Yaonemitl." If his usual tone is steady and even, this is not it. A lance of pure, icy fury is driven through every syllable. "You stand in the Temple of the Dreaming Dragon, the mistress of prophecy, to whom dreams and visions are holy. You stand before Her servant, and dare to utter false prophecy intended to deceive another into doing as you wish, to your benefit."

He takes a menacing step towards the warrior, his hand going towards a blade that is not there. "Not only do you speak lies, you speak blasphemy. Take yourself from this place, and never return, or face my blade."

Cuemoni's golden eyes dart to Seldan, nictating when he declares the prophecy that Yaonemitl has imparted as false prophecy. She also notices strongly the difference in demeanor when Seldan goes from the man that she and Zeke know as honored kin to a man who is a servant of the Dreaming Dragon, a holy warrior. Her head bows in reverence to him. He does the work that he is called upon to do for the Temple.

Yaonemitl gives a rumbling noise that is a displeased one. "This one will leave as requested," he says, "but the matter is not settled. Shaman Cuemoni, we will speak again soon."

He turns about and pads down the hall, quickly before Seldan may make good on his threat. In the meantime, Cuemoni takes a sharp breath. "Thank you, honored kin," she says gratefully to Seldan. "And Cihuaa. This one thanks you both." Her golden eyes look so very weary now, her body language sagging after being so tightly wound for a moment.

Zeke holds her still, his eyes trailing after the departing gold-scale. The fact that the male had been lying - that Seldan had called him on such and he had not even had the courage to stand aside his falsehood... Zeke frowns and holds Cuemoni closely. "We ssshould be on the out-look for that one. Hisss threat of return issss dissspleasssing to thiss one."

He shakes his head. "Thisss one isss grateful to you alssso kin, for sssseeing hisss wordsss with true eyessss. Thisss one thinkssss... Would you like to return to our nessst Cuemoni? It isss not quite a home yet, but... It isss oursss, and sssafe." Zeke wants her more than anything to feel safe.

Seldan holds up a hand, as the figure turns and swiftly retreats, and strides off behind him. He will see to it that the warrior actually leaves, but returns in short order, an absolutely thunderous expression written across the even features. "I name that one blasphemer, and coward, for he does not deny his own lies, nor does he cry insult," he scowls blackly.

Zeke's words nearly match his, and he nods, once he hears them. "The same lies in my mind, kin. Permit me to find weapons and armor, and I shall escort you."

Cuemoni agrees with Zeke, a nod of her head and a little worrying noise leaving her. It's clear that in the wake of Yaonemitl's leaving, the emotions that she's kept in check are beginning to leave her. Tears well up in her golden eyes. "Yes," she says. "Yes. This one... This one wants the nest."

She nods in greeting to Seldan when he returns. "This one appreciates it greatly," she says. "That you would act so brightly and fiercely on behalf of this one in addition to the Dreaming Goddess, whose prophecies and visions were granted to the late Elder from time to time." It is clear from her reverent tone that, while she may not serve a god or goddess like Zeke or Seldan does--she certainly does revere them in her own fashion. "That Yaonemitl would claim the Elder granted him a vision before..."

She falls silent, losing her voice to her emotions as she rises to her feet, holding onto Zeke even still, the tears flowing down the turquoise scales of her face.

Zeke nods to Seldan, feeling much of the same as his kin does. He is glad that the other male had not been physically closer to him when the lie was revealed. Violence does not sit well with Zeke. Not unless it is against an entity wholly evil. Yet... He breathes the edge of his anger out. Releasing it. "We will wait for you kin, you are welcome to take your rest in our nesssst, if you will it."

The house is not really ready for guests but Zeke will make the best of it for Cuemoni's sake and Seldan's comfort. He remains at her side, making a soft sound of comfort to her. "Thisss one isss here." He offers, lifting the pads of his claws to trace the features of her face and chase her tears.

Seldan shows no sign of releasing his anger, although his demeanor settles into that steady, sober veneer, the fury simmering beneath the surface and manifesting as tight focus. He turns to face the other two, surveying them both, and finally draws a deep, steadying breath, and releasing it slowly. This seems to ease things only a little.

"Remain here," he tells them in low tones. "I shall return as swiftly as I may." With that, he turns and strides into the back corridors of the Temple.

Cuemoni has no intention of going without Seldan. Instead, she stays in the comfort and company of Zeke's closeness, allowing him to chase away her tears. It's a long moment before she says anything.

"This one..." She pauses again. "When this one was pressured by those within the tribe to take a mate... Warrior Yaonemitl was one of the ones who pressured. He was very insistent. It took this one going to the Elder to get him to stop and respect... this one's decision."

She looks at Zeke with golden eyes that mourn. "This one loved the Elder as a mother figure," she says. "And as a protector. But now she is gone. Returned to Xiuhcoatl. Returned to the waters."

Zeke looks into Cuemoni's eyes. "Thisss one will protect you Cuemoni." He knows that she has her own strength, but he wants to do what he can for her as well. "Ssseldan alssso will not allow any to do any-thing that isss againssst your will."

He can not imagine her sadness and her fear at the thought of being pressured to do something like this which she has never wanted. At least... not in the same way. He carefully rubs his cheek against hers, a gesture of deep affection, and murmurs in her ear words for only her to hear. "As long ass you bear thisss onesss gift to you, you can alwaysss return to thisss one."

Cuemoni nods gently, rubbing her cheek against his in turn. "This one carries it everywhere that this one goes," she murmurs so gently.

Her close close for a moment, opening again to shed new tears. "There is a mourning song," she says gently. "Sung in this one's tribe. This one does not sing well. But it... It must be done."

It takes a moment before she sings, falteringly, but earnestly. It's a simple sort of song, something that a child could sing comfortably, meant to bring comfort to the singer and those who hear it.

"Tomorrow,

When the daylight floods our eyes,

When you learn this one is gone:

Oh here,

Returning to you this one comes,

Reborn again of His holy seafoam:

Beloved,

When you turn your gaze to the sky,

Smile in your heart for this one.

Up there,

This one will be one with Xiuhcoatl,

This one will give you His holy light."

Zeke does not know her mourning song, but he stands with her as she sings it, offering her words to the spirits that will carry her tribe-member to their final resting place. "Thisss one will make an offering, to the Death-singing Dragon for your kin." He says softly to her, tracing her cheek one last time with his claw. "And thisss one thinkss that your voisce isss lovely. You sssing from the heart."

Some minutes later, the clanking of armor warns of a return. Though the sound is quieter than most in armor, it is not quiet, and the paladin makes no secret of his return. More obvious still is a conversation, between the familiar lilting voice and a nassally, grandmotherly one. "Seldan, calm yourself."

"I am calm enough, Fallia."

"You are no such thing."

When he does appear, his appearance is wholly different from the unassuming man in simple clothing. Full armor bearing the quiescent sheen of moonlight on its surface, a full panoply of weapons, a sword at his hip, a bow over his back and an obviously different gauntlet on one hand. Gear on his brow and cloaks and small knapsack over his back, he is clearly prepared to face anything.

Cuemoni makes a happy, pleased rumble for Zeke's compliment regarding her singing, and she remains close to him until Seldan returns with... a conversation between himself and no one. She makes a curious noise that she lets out again as she looks at Seldan in his full kit. She has seen softskins in armor before, and she has seen Seldan before... But never Seldan in full softskin kit and gear. Her golden eyes nictate in surprise.

"This one did not expect such shiny and protective armor," she says in awe. "You must be a beloved servant of the Dreaming Goddess to have such lovely and protective armor, honored kin. Cihuaa has armor too that is shiny."

Of course, she knows there has to be a better word for it, but it is the best that she can come up with in softskin language. "Were you conversing with a spirit?" she asks.

Zeke's face is traced with faint amusement at the sound of Reunion's voice - or rather one of them. Particularly given Cuemoni's words. "Kin, would you care to introduce Cuemoni to Reunion?" He seems pleased now, though in truth the incident with the younger gold-scale is still rather close in his mind and likely will be for some time.

Seldan lets out a long, slow breath, and sighs. "I shall not lose my temper, Fallia. Will that suffice?" He closes, then, and a very small smile creeps across his face. "I speak with the spirits of my ancestors, within the blade I wear, a blade known to the world as Reunion."

"Do stop calling us that, boy," a querulous male chimes in almost at once.

"When you cease to earn the name, then shall I do so," Seldan counters, still with that small smile. "Besides, are we not uniters of that which is good?"

Grumble grumble grumble.

He turns his attention from the grumbling and chiding sword, even as the voices continue.

Cuemoni's golden eyes nictate in surprise again. It's clear that she had not expected a blade full of ancestral spirits. And yet... She lets out a happy hum, a sort of pleased joy coming to her features. "This one is impressed even more," she says to Seldan. "This one did not know you worked with ancestral spirits. It is a noble calling."

She bows her head reverently before the blade. "This one is pleased to meet you," she says. "This one is Cuemoni of the Xiuhcoatl tribe, Zeke's cihuaa." There is an undeniable point of pride in the last two words. "This one would like to get to know you more on the journey to the nest that Cihuaa and this one have."

It appears that at least Reunion might be occupied by someone who is not Seldan... for a time.

Zeke is not remotely surprised that Cuemoni is interested in Reunion, he offers a look to Seldan that speaks volumes of amusement, pride, and pleasure that his cihuaa would make an effort to get to know Seldan's ancestors in such a manner. "Then let ussss go." He says easily, ready to be gone to their nest. The blue-scale waits long enough to ensure that the others are ready to follow him before tracing the steps to the entry of the temple and from there into the dark beyond.

The chill rain is still falling, and he carefully lifts his hood against it, but he does not mind it so much somehow. He is after all, headed home.