Where the Wild Things Are

Wherein Sivan answers an invitation.

High City of the Northlands

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Sivan
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Sivan ate fruits and nuts that tasted wild, drank water that carried the particular minerals of their environs. Through them, he tasted—and coupled with his Rune, he Tasted—the Grove. It was another layer of understanding, or at least the journey there. Even with his powerful sembling, it took time and familiarity to truly plumb the depths of a person's aura or a place. He could not encompass the Grove in such a short amount of time, although everything he found seemed to call out to him, a kinship he hadn't known with his Hytori father, nor his Dratori mother and her family. The closest he had found were with his few close friends in Kalzasi, but this was magically augmented. It wasn't even quite the same as when he and Torin let down so many of their barriers to experience true intimacy.

This was based in communion with Spirit—the Wild.

The offer was overwhelming. When the Grove spoke through Sounja, his soul shivered like a leaf on a powerful breeze. But it didn't seek to wrest him from the stalk, but rather to invite him into itself, to be a part of the Grove, the Kindred, the myriad wild and mortal souls that blended, but retained as much personal identity as they wished.

His wild familiars sang with joy and want. Even Exael did not seem displeased at the offer, though he was thoughtful.

Rather than answer, Sivan opened up a part of himself, shared a thread of his communion with the place that had become Home. The cottage that had been like a seed, sprouting high and deep like the trunk of a tree and its roots. The Living Grave. The moon gate that led into Laurevere's yard, finding a happy medium between the wild and his more ordered tastes. The great seed from Ecith. The sun crystal and its altar. The hive. The squealmouse. The subterranean fungi. Yea, even a hint of Rivin, Destyn, and others who spent a great amount of time within his demesne.

When Sounja had had time to digest what he shared, he continued.

"I am inclined to agree," he said, clawed hands making supportive gestures although he wasn't speaking Rivach. "However, I am a summoner and my mind works in terms of contracts, and when it comes to contracts, the terms must be explicit. In order to make a decision, I must know what is expected of me and what I can expect. Is there some Code that the Kindred follow?"

This is Wisdom, Exael agreed quietly. If Sivan bound himself to the Grove, Exael himself would, perforce, be so bound as well.
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The little grove within The Grove seemed to open to what it was being shown, and, after a moment, to hum softly. Perhaps it was Sounja who was humming; sound emanating from deep within both of their chests to fill the air, mixing with the buzz of insects.

After a time their eyes opened and they inclined their head,

"I would not enter a city, but, through your experiences, I can. I thank you for sharing this."

When the question was asked another resonant hum, this time considering rather than absorbing, came from Sivan's host.

"Our code, if it can be called that, is old and difficult to translate into language." Rising to their four hooves they beckoned and began to walk again. When Sivan was alongside they continued.

"Foremost, we can not betray The Wild. Second, we are loyal to The Grove, to The Coven, to each other. These are, as I am sure you see, more complicated to understand than they are to speak. A commitment not to betray is not a commitment to act, nor is loyalty the same as obedience. In terms of expectations, we come when we are called by one another, to listen, and decide what we will do. We keep the spaces that have given themselves to us, aiding them in growth and renewal along their natural cycles. We hold back the Mists where they threaten to distort the natural. We offer aid to those who come to us seeking it, when and how we deem best without obligation until we choose to accept one."

Reaching down Sounja lifted a large branch out of their way and then held it for the elf as they led Sivan deeper into The Grove.

"Being Kindred is accepting our kinship: With the spirits, of this world and others, with the others of our coven, and with the world as a whole. We do not agree with much that is done but we do not interfere unless the threat is large enough to endanger the tapestry that weaves all life together. What that means is determined by all of us."

A small smile graced their oddly shaped face and their eyes went somehow gentle,

"It is sometimes difficult for a large group to come to a consensus, even when we are all here, attuned to one another. Thus, we have a council to make the choices that may affect all of us. Any may speak at the meetings of the council, which means they oft times go on for many days. Our choices are well considered, but at times, quite slow. Because of this any of us may seek the aid or counsel of any others at any time. We are a family. Additionally, once it becomes known, if you wish it to become known, that you are Kindred, some outside our kinship may seek your aid. Requests are often as simple as aiding in the growth of crops or the asking of advice. We are known to be wise."

This last sentence was also punctuated with a little smile that said, quite clearly, that wisdom is never a guarantee, even among the eldest.

"Even when the Council makes a choice no one is required to make any action against their will. Each may choose to aid in the action chosen, or not. Only taking action in direct opposition to the will of the majority is forbidden, and if one takes such an action they are choosing to leave our kinship. It is a painful thing to lose one of our kin but it is better than forcing them to be with us.

Among ourselves, we encourage growth, harmony and learning, when one wishes to learn. Contentment is not something to condemn. We will not push growth when it is not wanted, regardless of species."

Here the large Kindred stopped speaking, waiting to see if the information had answered Sivan's questions.
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Sivan
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The elf was used to alternate forms of communication. He hadn't truly spoken the Common tongue fluently until he had been settled in Kalzasi for some time. Aside from being a polyglot, he spoke to different spirits in different ways, each according to their natures. Sometimes, he and Torin seemed to communicate in pure thought when they were in a purely complementary, creative mood, working together, or when their flesh was conjoined and their auras aligned. All these things helped here, though Sounja communicated differently, of course.

Sivan wasn't quite projecting his thoughts, but he was leaving his surface thoughts quiet open to anyone who could semble or similar. So, while he didn't voice his errant thought that even the mists were natural, even if, as they were told, the Gods had not intended they should exist on the material plane. Still, not all the changes they had wrought were bad. They weren't even evil, merely chaotic. But he was not arguing the point, merely ruminating on what was said, which felt natural and even encouraged by how Sounja communicated.

They rose from their refreshment and continued to walk. He listened as he also opened himself to more of the Grove. He also made small adjustments to his paws, which weren't designed by Aedrin to ambulate on two feet for long. And he laughed quietly at the hint of humor relating to the relative wisdom of the old within the Kindred, though he didn't otherwise interrupt. His thoughts, legible on his strange face and open aura, formed more completely over time, and when Sounja stopped walking, he gave himself a few moments to digest before replying.

"I would not be so bold as to call myself wise at any age," he said.

Exael, being an expert on the subject as an actual spirit embodying celestial wisdom, interjected, It was an ancient teacher of your race who said, and here he switched to Vallenor because any translation involved adaptation and he did not want to alter any nuances of meaning, I myself know nothing, except just a little, enough to extract an argument from another man who is wise and to receive it fairly.

"You are often as maddening as he apparently was," Sivan said fondly.

Knowing that you don't know anything is a seed of wisdom, Exael declared.

"That might be the nicest thing you have ever said to me." He was a touch droll in his delivery; Exael was slowly beginning to understand humor - slowly. After a few more moments, he pivoted and said to their host, "That all sounds quite civilized." There was a hint of a smile for the word he chose. Most people didn't mean this when they spoke of civilization, but the Kindred seemed to have the soul of what civilization claimed were its greatest treasures: freedom, support, safety.

"Those terms are acceptable."
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As though something, someone, of a multitude of someones was aware of Sivan's thoughts, suggestions of replies and answers came to almost all of them through the aura that shelter them all. Ideas concerning the Mists implied that many of the Kindred saw them as the embodiment of broken consent, of the self being taken, of change without meaning. Many other, similar descriptions came from a thousand other versions of consciousness that somehow formed into a consensus that, unless a being chose to interact with the Mists, all should be protected from them.

Sounja's expression of amusement at the elf's description of himself was understood more through their aura, flowing out from them to join the general aura of The Grove as a dye might disseminate into slowly moving water; distinctly its own for a little time, then simply a part of the whole. When Exael responded Sounja listened with no difference than they listened to Sivan, responding;

"Some say that that is the heart of wisdom, or its beginning. I prefer to believe that remaining open to accept what comes and see it without prejudice is what, later, others call wisdom." A pause, and then, "Experience helps."

The conversation felt like getting to know someone, but it also felt like one that had been had before, by others, who were, in someway themselves. His expression was a mirrored echo of Sivan's, an appreciation of the irony without being offended by it. The declaration of the expectations of The Kindred being acceptable was not answered immediately, instead there was a sense of Sivan's answer being felt, considered, tasted and explored by Sounja, and, as it spread into the group consciousness, by others. Some personalities pushed closer, examining Sivan more intently, looking for particular things or just experiencing him as a whole. Others, quieter and less curious only became involved enough to express cursory consideration and then quiet approval or, at least, not objecting before fading back from whence they had come. Even with many, many minds of almost equally varied types of thought swirling around and through him, Sivan would not feel overwhelmed. It was as though his ability to process was also being filtered through the power of The Grove and thus, he had all the power of all those connected to it, which was drawn and used as it was needed without any real intention or effort.

How long this went on was as indistinguishable as any other measurement of time in that place but there was a sense of the light changing, and perhaps it was night once, or more than once, but when the last of the minds retreated, the sun was bright again, casting golden beams through the trees to caress the ground and the life there.

Sounja opened their eyes and looked down, kindly and welcoming in a new way.

"The spirits were not wrong about you. They rarely are, though, their motivations are not always ours. The Kindred welcome you."

The Kindred Welcome You

The myriad voices that had explored Sivan spoke together, again, each distinct and slightly familiar, joined as one.

Laying a wide hand on Sivan's golden furred shoulder Sounja took a slow breath that seemed echoed in the movement of the wind and said,

"There are things that Kindred know that we must teach you. It will take a little time, but you will not lose very much from the world outside."
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Sivan
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Character Secrets: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=1157

Even as a mere guest of the Kindred in their Grove, Sivan felt the edges of him unraveling, threads reaching out to connect with other, complementary threads. He felt interconnected and, thus, content even when Sounja sometimes fell silent for long stretches. There was no fear in the unraveling; they remembered the pattern that was Sivan, and he had aid in coming back to himself, weaving the fullness of his identity back together. It was a taste, he supposed, of what it would feel like to commune with the Kindred as one of them. He could lose himself, abandon identity, and enjoy a kaleidoscopic perspective on whatever troubled him, and offering his own to the troubles of his brethren. His troubles and anxieties need not be solely his own to bear, and that respite might strengthen him to later deal with them, armed with the wisdom of the coven.

He nodded and smiled when Sounja spoke and touched him.

"I am ready," he said, and was interested when the creature began to describe quirks, identifying his own as it related to the spirits under his care, as well as that of the Kindred, which would be taught to him along with their Sign—but first, initiation.

They began in the golden hour, but time ran differently here, or at least his awareness of it did. He wasn't a fabled chronomancer, but he was aware that time, too, was malleable to some: Vicis and Velar; blue dragons; an ancient line of elves. But not Sivan; he was suddenly content with his limitations. Being a part of this group would make them disappear, or at least put them into a new perspective, a happier, wiser one.

I am ready, he said, and the Kindred heard, understood, and came to gather about him.
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The introductions were long and, while he was within The Grove, easy for Sivan to keep in his head as though he had gotten to know each individual personally for a year or more. Once he stepped outside of The Grove the information was of a much vaguer kind. If he met one of The Kindred outside he would know that he knew them and that they were Kin, but the specifics of their personality would be more an impression that anything of detail. The shared mind of The Grove gave each member the ability to use far more than their own capacity for both memory and processing in both mental and emotional realms, but it did not last beyond the borders.

Even so, a Kindred would know one of their Kin when they met in the world at large, even if that particular member of the Coven had not been present when they were initiated. If any Kindred present at the initiation knew another, they all did, in the way of their kind. It was truly a family in this way, and deeper than most.

Sounja did some of the instruction, but they were not the only one. Any time that Sivan seemed not to understand the way something was being explained by one instructor another would step in, often mid-sentence, until they came upon a way of instructing that fit with their student. Thus learning was a quicker, more intuitive process than could be found outside.

When the time came to depart The Kindred withdrew from him slowly, making it a part of the physical journey so that, when Sivan and Sounja stood once again before the portal of root and stone that the elf had used to enter The Grove, only his own mind and that of this first guide remained with him. The large beast-and-man hybrid stood quietly, swaying with the wind and the trees in the twilight such that, had one not known to look for them, they might have mistaken their antlers for branches, their body for the curve of a trunk. They were content to stay thus and wait until Sivan was ready, however long that might be. Patiently waiting was one of the key attributes of The Kindred, for nature could not be forced, and rarely hurried. Sivan would go when he was fully prepared, sure in himself and ready to experience the world as a single being again.

As singular a being as one with a bonded Aidolon could be.
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Sivan
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Character Secrets: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=1157

Time was fluid here, but time did pass. Sivan was initiated, taught the Sign to recognize his Kin outside the Grove, and taught the tradition of Mistbreaking, which less tangible voices within the collective said with certitude that he would need in the future. As time was fluid here, he didn't know how far into the future that need would arise, but he did not question it. He learned.

As time passed, they shared that the Rift had been closed, that Zaichaer was more free to rebuild than before, but they might ask for his help with that later.

The time came to leave, and he moved with Sounja, retracing their steps as if the journey had been a meditative labyrinth walk. Sivan had changed physically in this time, seeming somehow to mirror Sounja more without incorporating a new Spirit into his Rune. They were kin now. Even Exael walked with them, deigning to manifest entirely and move like a mortal creature. He had been accepted by the coven, as well, not a wild spirit but now a kindred spirit. Whether that was through his connection with Sivan or on his own merits—who could say? His little flock of spirits trailed after them, as well. It was truly a magical promenade, though it began to ache as Sivan felt himself more and more locked into his own identity.

The bonds he had created remained, but grew fainter, more tenuous. They would not break, but they would not feel like the communion he had known here within their realm.

At the boundaries of the Grove, he paused and turned back to Sounja, whom he now knew quite intimately. His bestial smile was warm.

"Until we meet again, my Kin," he said with a gesture that came from no court but implied a respect and understanding they hadn't had not so very long ago.

It felt cold, but not cold. His Kindred were letting go of him, letting him fly freely until such time as he felt the need to return. Turning away from Sounja, he found that one of them—or many of them together—had opened a portal back to his home, mapping the slipspace through what he shared with them. Had he not just communed with them, that might have worried him. In this case, it did not. Sivan, Exael, and his entourage of wild spirits left the Grove and returned to another home, perhaps a new part of the Grove.

Time would tell.


fin.
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R E V I E W


Points: 15, may be used for magic.

Injuries/Ailments: A sense of loss associated with no longer being in The Grove that will last several weeks but fade throughout until it isn't felt anymore.

Loot: Sivan is now a member of The Kindred. He may use their Sign in his alchemical or Summoning work al receive +5% bonus wages in either due to their reputation bringing in additional custom.

Sivan may now use the Mistbreaker Summoning Quirk in addition to his milestone Quirks.

Notes: This was excellent fun! I enjoyed being able to flesh out and express more of The Kindred at last.

Mod XP: Rune: 16
word count: 138
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