Umbra 34, 228: A Dream of Goddesses

Tyrel dreams of Goddesses.

A Dream of Goddesses
Summary: Tyrel dreams of Goddesses.
OOC Date: November 7th, 2013
Related: None
Crown Prince's Office
A man's room. This spacious room is graced with a gorgeous view of the ocean. Three tall windows, topped with gorgeous stained glass look out over the harbour to east, and the ocean below. Dominating it is a truly massive, oaken desk, topped with assorted bits of small statuary and objects of art. The desk is ornately carved with an elegant vine pattern. Behind it is a rather grandiose throne of a chair, carved in a somewhat gothic style. What isn't wood is covered in black leather secured by silver studs. In front of the desk is a cluster of smaller black-leather chairs. The hardwood floor is covered in a thick purple rug with silver trim. A few silver candelabras spaced about the room in addition to a few wrought-iron wall sconces provide plenty of light. The walls are paneled two thirds of the way up the wall with a dark cherry wood. From there on up they are painted purple, and about a foot from the ceiling is silver stenciling. On one side of the room, a bookshelf lines the wall, from floor to ceiling. The shelf is filled with books from all across Daeren. A door leads to a private room for the Prince.
November 7th, 2013

Tyrel nods to Roane, "Just be certain I'm not disturbed for the next hour, if the need is dire knock and I'll open the door." Roane bows his head and moves to take up position outside. Tyrel closes the door behind the knight and slips the small latch shut to prevent the door from opening unintentionally from the outside. He crosses back to his chair and takes a seat stretching, then sets his booted feet on his desk and leans back closing his eyes. He drops off almost immediately, a skill learned from long practice. When Roane and the guards shift at the doorway his eyes open again, but seeing no threat in the room his eyes close having only half roused himself. The room is quiet save for the crackle of fire and his soft steady breath.

The air in the room is warm and pleasant and the fire lends its voice to a soothing lullaby. Shadows dance on the walls created by the flickering flames. At first there is just darkness then there is a sense of movement as light and dark play against Tyrel.'s eyelids. Time seems to drift away and the world fades and soon there is just darkness wrapping itself around his consciousness. He feels like he is floating in warm bath, he can feel the warm water caress bare skin he is at peace. Then there is light and twenty so candles appear neat to a pool that is sunken into a stone floor. He is still floating in the warm bath. The candles dance and flicker whispering softly. "To be born again. It is time to be born again." Then there is the sound of light footsteps. A woman appears out of the darkness. She is dressed in a dressed in the night sky. Her hair is black as onyx and her skin glows a pale silver like the stars at night. Her lips are colorless and match her skin. But she smiles.

*Sleep…just…sleep.* The command tumbles through the warm darkness as Tyrel wills his eyes to remain closed, his body to remain at rest. It has been so long since he slept well, but always the presence of another intrudes. His eyes flicker against the lids. *Just…sleep.* The comfort of his body is lost to the turbulence of his mind as his instincts scream that there is someone close, too close. *Just sleep.* He pleads with himself, but the presence continues to intrude as it has for so many nights, a woman, too close to just let him sleep.

"You are asleep." Candles continue to flicker and the starry woman speaks, her voice is hard to place and her accent odd and word hold seem ancient as the stars. "You are as you were when you were born, the only difference is that you are not screaming. But you will be weak when you wake. Open your eyes and look at me. You are one of my children." She moves closer towards the pool he is floating in. She moves to sit beside the pool. Her starry gown gathers around her and in it the constellations familiar to this world can be seen.

The eyes open slowly and in time focus on the woman speaking. His fingers shift for a moment finding the stone edge and moving. Swimming, floating, standing, turning…the time between decision and result is vague to Tyrel's perception. One moment his is floating, the next he is bowing his head kept up so his eyes remain upon the woman. "Lady, you will pardon if I seem…out of sorts. I am not accustomed to receiving guests in this manner." He has bowed long enough and then he is standing, the action a vague notion with only the thought and the result given concrete form. "I hope you will think better of my manners this time."

"You are made in the image of others, you are their creation. You are also as you should be, in my presence, you are without title, clothing and without false words." She tells him. "Who do you think you are? Before you were born you were an idea of your own, before that you were an idea of theirs. But then they gave you free will and you had to choose between the light and darkness. You were at one time, very powerful. But this time you are but shadow of what you were. What would you choose now? Would seek to be of light or darkness?"

Brows furrow and the soft blue of Tyrel's eyes cloud, his postures shifts and his muscles cord as his bearing changes. His shoulder square and his weight shifts forward onto the balls of his feet increasing his height. His sword hand rests on his waits, his fingers extended and curled as though resting on a pommel his other hand gestures the movements and actions now as distinct as the results, "I am Tyrel Kilgour, … " His lips move silently for a moment then he stops, "It seems I do not have title here, but there are others who do not recognize the titles of my family but that does not change who I am. I am a leader and caretaker of my people, a …." He stops again after his voice fails him. "I am a warrior sworn to protect those who need aid. I seek balance between the Light and the Darkness as my people cannot prosper with only one or the other though to my mind we live in dark times these days."

"You are Tyrel in this form, your last name holds no meaning, but in your heart you are Tyrel. When you die and give up the name you then be in your truest form. Why do you seek this balance, and why do you seek the grey and the twilight? Your soul is mine right now, but the others know you are here, Child of the twilight, child of the old ways, child of the earth, child of the stars and child of magic. You are to be born this night, you will feel the pain of your birth and the horror of your birth, this you will feel as you pass between the light and the dark so you can be in the twilight."

Tyrel shifts again his muscles easing as he turns, steps, paces, gestures, the actions lose distinction though the words are clear and true. "I do not seek twilight, I seek balance. There must be a night and a day with twilight between them. A man is not honorable who is never tempted, a man not brave unless he wishes to flee, without the one the other has no definition and without twilight to ease the transition none could ever change." He is no longer moving but stands again, "I do not shy from pain, Lady, and will bear it for those who cannot. With one hand I send men to kill and die, with the other I feed the hungry and house the poor." He looks at her again, "You wear the night, you claim my soul, you bind my tongue, pronounce me a shadow, and you deny my name but listen carefully. I am Tyrel Kilgour." He rips the name out of the air, "Whatever I have been, whatever I will be, this is what I am now…the word Kilgour may have had no meaning when the world began but I give it meaning as my father did before me it is truth and will not be denied."

"The grey is the balance between light and dark. Twilight is the balance between day and night. You are Tryrel." She says gently. Rising from where she was seated she motions for him to come near her. "Look into the pool, do you seek the truth of what was or what is to become and what you are and what your birth will mean then look into the pool. See with your eyes, and weigh with both mind and heart. Feel the twilight, the grey and the balance." She says whispers but her whisper seems to travel through time and space.

Tyrel moves in jerks as he resolves to go halfway, then half again, then again, then again. He is then standing beside her, his expression displaying the frustration that his indecision is so clearly displayed in his movement. "I ever seek he truth, Lady." He lowers his gaze then to the pool, his hands folding behind his back a gesture of confidence and comfort despite his exposed position.

"The world around us is built on perceptions of what is real. The truth always lies between. Even you have had preconceived ideas of what is true, look, see and learn." She tells him, the stars are gown shift and move as the night progresses and as some stars die and others are born. She looks at him then she knees down beside the pool and touches the black water.

Inside the stables, the royal stables where the horses of the castle are kept, a young blonde princess is holding an apple in her hand, mischief in her blue eyes. Inside one of the stalls before her is a palomino paint horse that seems alert to the young woman outside his stall. Behind her back she holds an apple that the horse seems to know is there as the animal sniffs at her shoulder, her hair, tickling her neck. "Oh, Carrick," she laughs, the sound like musical sunbeams that dazzle in the fading light. Drawing her hand from behind her back, she offers the apple in the palm of her hand to the beautiful animal who gently begins eating from the flat surface she makes. Genuine affection, love, radiates from her as she watches the animal, her own horse, delight in the fruit. Behind her, a handmaid watches, her affection for the young princess apparent in the expression on her face. Lifelong companions, friends, the handmaid remains closely at her side. At the entrance of the stables a guard stands, protective, stoic, except for a glimmer of pride in his eyes at his charges.

Tyrel watches the tableau play out, his hands remains behind his back. He shifts slightly one leg stretching back to balance as he leans forward to see into the pool more clearly.

"How do you judge her and your brother?" The woman asks as she watches him and not what he sees in the pool.

In the pool the scene he is watching never wavers and he sees his brother Logen stalking in the shadows. He is a cat seeking out a mouse and his pray is the gold haired princess. From the shadows he watches her for a while, not moving, staying out of the sight for the moment of her guard and handmaiden.

Tyrel looks to the star clad woman, "There is nothing to judge, Lady, there is no question put forward by what we are viewing." He turns his attention back to the scene.

Once Carrick has eaten the apple and his large rough tongue licks the remnants from her hand, much to the delight of the princess, she lifts her hand to gently and tenderly caress the horse. "You remind me of home, Carrick, not only because of your name.." she does not clarify, she does not have to as the handmaid gently touches her shoulder. "You will feel equally welcome here, Princess, just give it time. Your good family will come to love you as much as your mother and father." Lifting those same blue eyes to her handmaid, they now hold questions. "You are my best friend. Do you think he could come to love me? To.. bear to be with me some day?" The conversation is suddenly interrupted by a sound her guard makes. Both of the women look towards him, though it proves to be nothing, so they are allowed to go on about their talks. However, the princess is more hesitant now. "I wish not to be disloyal to my husband by speaking of him even with you." Her maid nods in understanding and the silence that falls is comfortable as the princess murmurs soothingly to her horse who seems suddenly to look uneasy.

"How would you judge this? Has she copulated with your brother? Has she given in to female desires? Would you believe her if she told you nothing happened between them. Or would you believe your brother? Do you have doubt that the child is yours?" The woman asks as she looks up at him and her eyes are dark as the night. There is no perceived iris or pupil, there is just darkness.

In the pool the man remains there in the shadows hunting his golden haired prey.

Tyrel looks to the Lady, meeting eyes of darkness with eyes of soft blue, "I cannot afford the luxury of doubt, Lady. I have judged the child to mine, my wife to be pure, and my brother has been given instruction on proper behavior. Show me fantasy of their tryst or their innocence and it will not change what I have judged." He looks back to the pool, "Knowing the truth, or seeing a clearer view of it will only cause me pain, for having doubted one or for having trusted the other." He looks to her again, "A pain I bear in hopes that I grow to be a better judge of the truth, but it does not change the decisions that I have made."

As he gazes upon Logen he can feel his stomach begin to sicken and it feels like there is something pressing into his gut.

Logen then steps into the light. He stands there with a smirk on his face his eyes hungry as he looks over her.

"But still there is doubt, questions that haunt your sleep?" She asks him. The smile remains in place.

"My new home is just so.." The princess smiles to her maid, the playfulness of just a moment before still there, prominent. "Lonely.." Her smile is bright with the sunbeams still dancing through the shadows. "And then my husband seeks my company, whisks me away from everything and everyone and makes me feel as if I were the only person in his life that was important." Good memories there, like threads creating a shield around her the rest of the kingdom could never touch, for her husband possessed her so completely there was no room for anything else there.

Hearing another enter, first the maid moves to stand protectively before the princess, a wary look on her face until she recognizes the younger brother of the Prince. The guard must have let him in, for who could stop the prince of the kingdom from entering? "Pardon, Your Highness," inclining her head Serah moves aside as the princess meets him with a proper bow of her head. "Your Highness." There is no sense of any unease of the princess, she trusts the family of her husband fully, even enough to offer a smile to her good brother. "I was but bringing a treat to my Carrick. I shall not stay long. Surely I will be missed in the castle soon."

Tyrel says, "Dreams are where the doubts and fantasies of the day are banished to, Lady, though I suspect you do not need me to tell you from what dreams are made." He runs his hand from his chest to his waist as if straightening a shirt his is not wearing. He gestures towards the pool, "Such insight are wasted after judgement has been passed."

"That is where you are wrong, dreams are of all the gods, not just the one you are thinking of." She tells him. "Dreams are when you are open and malleable to us." She says lightly. "They never are, for you are learning. Child of the twilight, child of the earth and child of magic," She looks down at the pool of water. Touching it with her finger the scene disappears and he can now see the starry night sky, but he cannot see Cri. The candles instead grow brighter like Cri. "You will know more as time passes as you will learn more, but what gifts are given are not given lightly or without a cost." She looks to the light that seems to grow brighter. "My sister will be here soon."

Indeed she is. Divinely beautiful, her ebony skin glows ethereal in the candle light, eyes the color of the night sky, reflected from her sister. She is very tall and very slender wearing a bright scarlet toga wrap around her. In her eyes, there is a combination of turmoil and peace, contradictions that draw in the mortals, a beginning, a promise of life. She looks into the pool, seeking the mortals who are deserving. When she speaks, it is softly. "As you are now, with no title, no name, what do you offer your unborn son?"

Tyrel considers this for a few moments, "It is a boy then?" He looks upward for a few moments the goddesses at hand forgotten as he offers thanks to the goddesses with his heart "Ciarrah will be pleased.". Then he says, "He is my heir, I will give him everything I have and everything that I am. If I have no title, I will aid him in gaining one, if I have no name I will see that his is known. What strength and wisdom are mine will pass to him. What is it a father would not offer to his son?"

"And love? There is no mention of love. Are you so grudging to withhold the single largest need beyond sustenance?" There is no judgment in her eyes, only that same contradiction. "I seek only for you to find the truth within yourself, you do not answer only to me but to future generations as well. You are a legacy unto yourself, yet what you leave behind will remain just as surely as what your father has."

Tyrel looks between the goddesses for a few moments, "I forget sometimes that a goddess is also a woman, he is a boy and must grow to be a man. I will give him respect and he will respect me. He has a mother to love and to love him."

"I am of the stars and I am neither man or woman. But you are only seeing with your eyes. Open your mind and heart to us. So we can show you what you should know or your gift will become a curse." The starry woman says as she moves back to slip into the shadows. "If it were not for love you would not be here or reborn there."

Tyrel holds very still for a few moments, "I do not understand." He admits after some time. "The marriage of my parents was arranged, their love a happy coincidence."

Closing those eyes the color of the night sky, the ebony skin turning to the same color of her eyes, twinkling, fading the goddess. "Yet the love of your father for his son is greater than the love of a man for his kingdom." The words echo faintly as the goddess continues to fade into oblivion, she knew all she needed to know.

In the darkness the stars seem to speak. "You will in time, perhaps not until the day you die but you will understand. It is time for you to go into the pool and it is time for you to be reborn." She the pools starts to glow a soft silver.

Tyrel nods slowly looking nonplussed as the goddess states what is seemingly obvious, "Without the line of kings there is no kingdom." He postulates attempting to grasp at the wisdom the goddesses indicate he is lacking, but when instructed he moves to the pool.

There is no voice now, just the echoing of a thought pulsing in the darkness from where the creator, the bringer of life had just been standing. Perhaps, my sister, a gift was bestowed by mistake from me. And then just as it appeared, it is gone.

"My sister may have a point." The woman now in the shadows says. "It is time." The light in the pool grows brighter.

Tyrel steps, sits, falls, drops into the pool of light the action and the result blurring.

The light swirls around him and he is once against in floating in the warm bath, but then as the water swirls he feels unseen hand reaching out and grabbing him. There is pain and he can feel everything being squeezed out of his body and mind. Shadows and light fight over him like two feral dogs after a bone. He is they tear and rip him apart. Tugging at him pushing, until he is void of everything and anything, then there is darkness, then a grey mist wraps itself around him.

Tyrel endures as he can, and screams when he cannot. The only shame to be found in pain is when it stops you, and Tyrel stepped into this pain of his own accord. Then, he is empty.

The mist leaves him to his own dreams and there he will sleep.

Tyrel stirs from his sleep his eyes opening slowly. This is wrong, he /always/ wakes up quickly. He sits very still taking measure of his condition then slowly moves his feet from the desk to the floor, they drop with a thud and his head lolls as he looks down to the impossibly heavy boots. He shifts forward to cradle his head in his hands and nearly smashes his nose against the desk bending his finger back painfully. His gaze on the floor he attempts to sort out what has gone wrong. Slowly, carefully he spiders his hand across the desk and takes up a bottle of whiskey. He tilts it until enough splashes on him to give him the smell of the drink, the spills the rest into the wast bucket.

"Roane…Roane!" He calls out. When Roane pushes the door open snapping the privacy twig Tyrel says, "Help me to bed, the whiskey was of finer strength than I…" He doubles over as the bottom drops out of his stomach. "…just…get me to bed." He mutters then lets the Rioga aid him in moving to his chambers.

Tyrel lies in his bed, having worked his boots off with great difficulty. "Who would have thought that goddesses had the luxury of doubt."

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