Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Ymiden 81st of Arc 720
Late afternoon
Yldria, Uleuda
Previously...

The light of Yldria shone down on Ueuda. Bright, warm, energizing. Immediately surrounding the massive crystal was nothing, just open space designed to welcome the arriving Yludih whenever they so desired. A large circular square where Yludih gathered or waited for their loved ones to arrive. Surrounding this square was the first circle of buildings, all made up of crystals, grown and then shaped by the needs of the Yludih race as a whole and the Ancients. Within this first circle of buildings one could find large open spaces meant to bring together groups of Yludih to discuss or teach them in group. Many of the younger Yludih spent their first few seasons here, learning the language and the basics of Uleuda life.

Within this first circle, as close as it could be to Yldria itself, was also the hospital. Or the building that was used to house wounded Yludih. There wasn’t much in the way of healing here. Yldria provided most of it on its own and many smaller cracks or scrapes healed over time simply by being touched by the light of Yldria. For those with greater wounds, a temporary stay at the hospital was in order.

This trial saw two such Yludih occupying some of the crystal beds in the building. A thin looking Yludih who seemed like he should spent his entire life here, with a female Yludih in the sickbed next to his, covered mostly by the soft crystalline sheets. Her features were largely blank and angular, like a roughly hewn boulder or an unrefined gemstone, save for the large crack on the right side of her face. It looked like one of the injuries some Yludih would come to seek treatment for, but hers was old rather than fresh, and no amount of Yldria’s light had ever closed it even a little bit. That mattered very little though, as it wasn’t the cause of her hospitalization either way.

There was no visible indication of her waking. Having no eyes to blink or to open, it was nearly impossible to tell whether the faceless Yludih was asleep or awake. The pulsing of her asterism, the light being pushed from the center of her body to the extremities, the soft flashing and waning of the generated light and warmth… it all remained the same at first. Stable. Unchanging.

Yet there was a noise. Like a gasp for breath, but not quite the same. Uleuda had no air to breathe. Yludih did not have lungs to allow for it either. But the sound was there nonetheless. A raspy croak of someone who was abruptly woken from slumber. Shards of broken glass that scraped against each other. She didn’t stir much, but a reaction was noticeable to those who paid attention. First there was a slight stiffening, a tensing of crystal core and limbs. Ready for action, or trying to be. Asterism pulse quickening, light flaring brighter. It lasted for about a second. Then the tension faded, and she seemed to sink a little deeper into the bed. The rhythm returned to its relaxed beat, the light it spread dimmed just a bit. Along it came a soft and barely audible whistle, like the resonance of a wine glass that was almost completely full.

His own pulse quickened, if that were even possible. It always flickered like a candle light in a windy room at the calmest of times but now it was pushed by relief and hope and the end of worry but most of all, love. Love which he shouldn’t be feeling. Not for this one, at least. But he turned his head to look at her, just in time to watch her relax. The sudden movement of his head to his left caused his right shoulder to pull on his right arm, which flared with pain and he whistled against the pain, an involuntary breathing reflex he’d picked up before ever coming to Uleuda. And while he wanted to know, he didn’t want to engage further, or not without good reason. So he watched, in silence, patiently waiting for her to open her eyes, although he couldn’t see her do that, so patiently waiting for her to turn her head in his direction and maybe say something.

Finally, she turned. Gaze tearing itself away from the ceiling as she repositioned her head on the pillow. As the crack was on his side, she had to turn far more to be able to catch him in her field of vision. A bed similar like hers, covered by the same kind of blankets. Staring at the ceiling above, or at least his head was facing that way. “What’s one success in dozens of failures? It only cost me an arm and both my legs to do so.” His voice remained sharp and he seemed to refuse to face her as he spoke.

“Depends on the success itself. There’s no point in succeeding all the time if you fail at the point where it really matters. Likewise, as long as you succeed when it counts, the failures from before are inco--”

His face flared with light from his asterism as he suddenly turned to her, cutting through her chimes. “I failed the first time!” His words sounded like they were meant to hurt her. “The rest of them have no point. Just a way for me to keep torturing myself. For you to keep torturing me! All these dozen other attempts are meaningless.”

“I don’t remember any such times,” she chimed softly, “but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“You never do. And it’s worth nothing anymore. Not after..." After what? Which one was the first one again? He touched his left hand to his temple, trying to rub crystals against crystals to massage away the headache that was forming. Why was he getting so upset at her. It didn’t matter anymore, after all. Not with this Yana. Not after the… His head felt like it was on fire, much like his arm. The beheading? Or had it been the Nulliem in the snow? The wolves? Freezing? Or had it been his fault? The one where he’d had to kill her first? Frozen, but differently? The blood, surrounded by bodies of her fallen enemies, ultimately fallen herself? The Nulliem in her asterism? The bear or had it been a massive wolf or had it been a scaled monstrosity or had it been one of those giant white ape ones? Or the bandits? Which one had it been? It felt like someone had shoved a burning piece of Yldria straight into his head

He yelled at her, just wordless anger and frustration at his inability to make her understand how pointless his actions had been. It sounded like someone smashed a crystal vase on the floor but the shattering noise kept stretching itself out until he ran out of energy. His eyes were focused on her, his face and chest barely lit as his asterism flickered away like a dying star.

“But, I am starting to understand a little, I think.” Once again she turned towards him, but didn’t really bother doing so all the way. The large crack on her face making up most of what Sintih could see of it. “How real am I to you? Here? Now?” There was a certain edge to her chimes, more a sensation than emotion. Like a shark perking up when it smelled blood. Part curiosity, part bloodlust. And yet not quite both. Inquisitive, sharp. Cutting straight to what she surely believed to be the heart of the issue.

He had nothing left to throw at her in the moment, no energy to withstand her question, no energy to steel himself to the emotions she always brought with her. She was always the most difficult one to deal with.

“Not.”

A single word, chimes filled with guilt and loss. There was nothing left to protect him as the loss washed over him and he stopped talking, trying to keep himself from breaking down, in vain. His left hand moved up to cover the bottom half of his face, to try and stifle his crying, although that was an Idalosian concept and didn’t help here at all.

To say the single mono-syllable was painful to hear would be an understatement. It was a knife driven into her back, sinking deeply into the crystals of her body. Piercing through layers and layers until it reached the asterism. That one word hurt her more than any blade ever had. Yana had several scars, even in her crystal form. Cracks that had been filled with newer crystals through the healing properties of time itself. Their hue was a little different, and though hard to spot even through the simple translucent robe, they did exist. Each and every one of them had evoked searing pain, and yet none could compare to the one word Sintih let resonate through the room.

“I see,” Yana said then, voice back under control, though the strain in her chimes was obvious. “So that’s how it is.” Sadness far deeper than even she realized layered her words, and it was hard to keep herself in check while Sintih’s last word still drifted through her mind. She shifted on the bed, throwing off the sheets with a quick motion of her arms, then turned to sit on the edge. It required a surprising amount of effort, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t recovered yet, or because of the confrontation with reality --and Sintih’s too-- stirring up such turmoil within herself.

Feet on the floor, she stood, pushing her body upright. Unsteady for a moment, balance foreign. Yet she regained it quickly, adapting and overcoming. The first step forward was difficult, but the next came easy. To his bed, to his side.

She reached out with trembling hands, body bent at the waist so she leaned over him slightly. Face to face, closer and closer. Perhaps too close. Uselessly close when neither had facial features. Her hands crept towards his face, slowly, gingerly, then grabbed him by the collar of his robe. Yana pulled him up, working her arms, joints and back, lifting him halfway into a seated position, face still as close to hers as before. He was lighter than before, lighter than he used to be.

“What about now?” she questioned, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice, emotions running too wild to be subdued completely. Sadness, yes, but anger too. Frustration, desperation, loss, hope. “Can a hallucination do this? Can it lift you halfway up while you can hardly move yourself?” It hadn’t been what she’d wanted to say. It hadn’t been what she’d wanted to do before to try to shake him awake, but their Uleuda forms put a spanner in the works. There was a scratching of broken shards of glass to express her frustration, and she brought her head forward, none too gently. Forehead smacked against forehead, a crystal CLINK making the both of them flinch, though it wasn’t an attack. She preserved the contact, feeling the light and warmth, diminished as they may be, course through his body with every pulse of his weak asterism. “Can’t you feel my body? The heat within it? Can’t you feel the contact between us?”

There were no eyes to check, no facial structure to read, barely a body to get any language off of. Just two humanoid shaped crystal formations butting heads. He could feel her asterism pulse, stronger and slower than his, even when they weren’t truly connected yet. The rhythmical pulse made him feel her loss all the more but helped to calm him in the moment and he focused a little more on her instead of the pain. His position was awkward, with his legs almost non responsive and his right arm hurting whenever he tried to move it. All he had, as she held him up, half off the bed, was a functioning left hand and a pulsing asterism.