Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Mon Nov 02, 2020 11:31 pm**

Sometime in the Age of Dreams

"For the last time, focus on the pictograph." Lana rubbed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes against the headache that was threatening to overcome her. She and Sierra had been at the temple for most of the day, at the same table, staring at the same set of scrolls for what felt like an eon. So much time had past that the Scribes had already begun to dim the glove lights that hovered high above, the ceiling steadily turning translucent to show the red light of sunset fill the air.

Sierra, for her part, sat with her head on the desk, groaning softly as she knocked her forehead repeatedly on the wood. Her gold hair fell like waterfalls over the edge of the table, shinning with the fiery red of the evening rays.

"I told you, I CAN NOT understand it." Her words were muffled by the scroll her face was currently buried in, which made Lana move to rubbing her temples instead.

"You have spent the last three hours staring at the wall, complaining of being too hot, then too cold, and wandering off to 'get reference material'. If you spent half the energy you use to avoid the work on actually completing the assignment we would have finished yesterday."

Sierra merely grunted, not looking up from the desk. Lana felt a fuming anger well up within her, and she clenched her fists at her side, truly considering hitting the frustrating woman in the head with one of the scrolls that was stacked on the table beside her. Lana's hand was even reaching for one of the scrolls when Sierra finally looked up and sighed, running a hand through her golden locks with a frustrated expression.

"I just don't understand Lana. The pictographs are all different. No two mages make the same one, yet somehow I am supposed to interpret the inner meaning?" This question she directed at Lana, who quickly hid her hands behind her back, shuffling away from the pile of scrolls as she did.

"Pictographs, in and of themselves, have no meaning unless a mage gives them such." She said, moving closer to sit down next to her friend. Pulling the scroll closer to her Lana pointed at the pictograph drawn there, "This one is one of the basic pictographs found in the manipulation of abstract space. A version of this was utilized in the Rift Gates..." her voice grew soft, but Lana pushed on, "Yes, you are correct. No two mages draw the same pictograph, though over time pictographs have begun to take on a sort of standardization. Designs that are passed from person to person so that they usually resemble one another, if only in passing." Sierra looked as if she wanted to say something, but Lana held up a hand, "That said, they do not require a similar design to be read. We, as Scribes of the Gods do not read the pictograph, but rather the intent behind it."

The golden haired woman groaned and slammed her head back on the desk, and once more Lana rubbed the bridge of her nose. She really wasn't cut out for this. Her talents, if they could be called that, were better suited to individual work. Something she could do in the quiet of her own lab, away from others where she did not need to speak, or teach, anyone anything.

The sound of voices nearby made Lana look up, and she caught sight of a pair of boys walking through the stacks. One of the boys looked her way, and sneered. They were too far away to hear, but she could clearly see his lips move in a familiar pattern.

Soulless. Doll.

Lana watched as the boy's retreated, laughing and shoving as boys did. A part of her felt... discomfort. Soulless... that was what she was called, though Lana could not fathom why. She was sure she felt things as strongly as anyone else, and that she could be hurt as anyone could. Yet still that title had followed her. Soulless, lifeless. A doll without a will of her own. Not that she minded that last part much. She never really felt she had a particular reason for doing anything, and so was content to simply be told what to do and when.

When she looked back Sierra was staring at her, silver eyes deep like pools of moonlight. When their gazes met Sierra shifted, sliding closer to Lana and taking her hand with a smile.

"I really am not made for this sort of work. The concepts... they escape me. Maybe if you spoke in terms I could understand that would help?

Lana blinked, "I am willing to try if you wish. What did you have in mind?"

Sierra's eyes danced with amusement and she stood, pulling Lana to her feet, "Come, let me be your tutor for a while. If I can show you a bit of what I understand, maybe you can do the same for me."

Posted: **Tue Nov 03, 2020 4:14 pm**

Sierra's soft voice whispered in Lana's ear, counting a measured pace as she gently guided her friend by the hand in small circles. Lana for her part was frowning, eyes downcast at both her and Sierra's feet that were moving in careful patterns, one after the other as they swayed back and forth. One of her hands was held softly by Sierra, her other on the other woman's shoulder as they moved.

"Look at my eyes, not my feet." Sierra berated playfully.

Lana glanced up, but swiftly back down once more as her foot caught on the end of her robe. She almost cursed but held back in time.

"If that were possible, I would have done so already." Her words were clipped, mixed with frustration and annoyance. She wasn't one of the Leh'anafel. She was hardly able to walk, let alone dance as her friend seemed so insistent on her doing. "Why do you torture me so?"

Raising an eyebrow Sierra spun them in a circle, releasing her hold on Lana's waist and letting her stumble in imitation of a graceful swing before drawing her close once more, "I could ask the same of you. Why do you keep forcing me to learn the scripts when I am obviously unfit for it?"

"I do as your father commands." Lana said simply, frowning in concentration as she struggled to find the rhythm once more. Her hand on Sierra's shoulder tightened as they adjusted and began to sway in the other direction, "He wishes you understand the foundations of the Scripts, to serve the gods and to give yourself a better life. The Scripts are not truly difficult."

"That's what you say." Sierra sighed, stepping back and carefully guiding Lyra's hands to her own, spinning them both before coming back together to continue the rocking, "The scripts to me just look like pictures. They do not have emotions or souls. There is no music to dance to. How am I supposed to interpret the meaning of a song that has no lyrics?"

The golden-haired woman shook her head, but then looked in surprise at Lana's bemused expression.

"How can you say the scripts, the words of the divine, of the world itself... How can you believe they have no soul?" The utter shock in Lana's face made Sierra slow their pace, the pair coming to a halt, still holding one another close. Lana shook her head, saying incredulously, "The scripts, they are a way that gives the world itself voice. They sing a song of inner meaning that you do not read with your eyes, but with that part of you that knows how to breath, that makes your heartbeat, and your body to move when it hears a melody..."

Lana drifted into silence, a thoughtful expression coming over her. Eventually, Sierra could take it no more and leaned close, "You have grown silent. Did you think of something?"

Chewing her lip Lana shook her head, and the two began to sway once more. As they moved Sierra carefully helped guide Lana's motions, shifting a toe with her own to the proper position, applying pressure with her hands at Lana's waist to tell her where to go. As they moved across the room Lana observed more and more of what Sierra was actually doing. All at once, she realized the woman had not once given her a vocal instruction. She did not tell Lana where to put her hands, or how to move, or the pattern. She had shown her, held her hand, and guided her through each step. She did it so well that until this very moment Lana had not even realized what Sierra had been doing.

"I..." Lana hesitated, looking up to meet Sierra's curious gaze. She felt an odd sense of embarrassment, and looked away before continuing, "I think the way I read the scripts... it is similar to how you know how to move. How you dance. It isn't something I think about. I look at the designs, and I see what the creator of the pictograph intended, not the shape he used to capture that intent."

Looking up Lana saw her friend's confusion and quickly continued, "The scripts are not pictures. They are a language spoken by the world that needs no physical representation. The pictographs just give us something to help see what the original creator intended when she created the schema. It is like..." Lana paused, searching for the right words, "The notes of the music are not the music itself. They do not produce the sound or the song, but they give the skilled a way to hear the melody anyway." At this Lana squeezed Sierra's hand in her own, rubbing a finger over the rune that was there, "You possess one of the marks of the Leh'anafel. Though it is not required, it is like... you." Shaking her head Lana continued before Sierra could speak on the odd analogy, "You know how the rune accepts your intent and helps you create effects in the world. When you look at the scripts, it can help you recognize the same in other pictographs. Like how you are guiding me in this dance. I know not how to place my feet or move my body, but you are guiding me until I can do it on my own."

A flicker of understanding seemed to cross Sierra's face but seemed fleeting. Once more they slowed their pace, coming to a halt as they released one another. Sierra was now looking at her rune, examining it as if she had never noticed it before.

"I think I understand." She said slowly, rubbing her shoulder with a sigh and a shrug, "Maybe I have been approaching these sessions incorrectly. It's just, no matter how hard I try none of it seems to click. That said," she looked down at her hand once more, tilting her head before showing the rune to Lana. It swirled with soft lines and angles, forming a rough shape of an eye, "When I look at the rune of the Melodies I can sort of understand what it is mean to do. I think." Her voice was hesitant, "Is that what it is like when you examine a pictograph?"

"Similar, yes." Lana nodded, reaching forward and taking Sierra's hand, tracing the lines of her rune with a finger, "The shape and design tell a story, but the way the pictographs move the aether, that tells me the deeper meaning as well."

Posted: **Wed Nov 11, 2020 10:54 am**

R E W A R D S

Lyra
XP: 5. Cannot be used for magic.
Skill Lore
Dancing: Keepy rhythm
Dancing: Recovering from a stumble
Dancing: Proper form for dancing with a partner
Dancing: Swaying in time with partner
Dancing: Dancing while talking
Teaching: Using another person's skill to explain a topic

Legend of Ransera

[Memory] Can you dance without a soul? I

[Memory] Can you dance without a soul? I

Re: [Memory] Can you dance without a soul? I

Re: [Memory] Can you dance without a soul? I