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Entry tags:
{ Horizon }
tl;dr -
○ Outer Tier: frozen slice of Cyslodia, land of darkness and snow
• Middle Tier: The Owl Forest, home to Dahnan Owls
♥ Inner Tier: a warm campsite, beneath an ever changing evening sky
Most will only ever see the outer world of ice and snow; those who find a Dahnan Owl can discover the whimsical home within their hollowed tree. But far fewer still will find the path to the place akin to home for Rinwell..
@ Shionne || Horizon || Start of January
No other domain seems to have a second planet hanging above it, at least from the few she's wandered through. Rinwell knows hers lies somewhere 'north west', not unlike the real Cyslodia upon a map of Dahna. And that the stretch of mountain border for her domain runs close to the territory that her hosts call theirs; the keep is somewhere further north, best as she can tell. Yet even as she walks through once familiar snowy paths, there's no bite to the weather around her. Instead, there's a pang, longing, for home. And the people she left behind.
It's been months, and it still hurts to think about them, the people who'd become friends she'd never anticipated wanting to have. She looks down at her hands, at familiar gloves hiding her lack of spirit core. Her traditional mage garb bears signs of the Magician now, complimenting rather than replacing the clan butterfly she's so proud of.
And then. Something. Something pulling at her attention, as though the astral energy of the Horizon is pointing to the south of her territory.
It doesn't feel like a threat, not that she can imagine anyone attacking someone else here, but eventually, there's a hoot from her beloved owlet, before he begins fluttering away, pausing only to wait for her. ]
Okay, okay. [it's plain what he thinks they should be doing, and she smiles at him] I'm coming, Hootle. Let's go see what's up.
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She knows she is Shionne. She is Shionne Vymer Imeris Daymore. Many names that amount to a single person. Beyond that, she has nothing.
Is that where the feeling springs from? That she is reduced to only a name? She knows she is more. (She has to be.) Holding onto that is what keeps her feet moving, clad in elegant heels that coil up her thighs. The swish of her dress behind her is the only sound that follows her past things she recognizes: the bubbling fires of a volcano, swirling clouds of storm. A tall, still thing in the center of this place that watches her no matter where she roams. The longer she walks, the colder she feels. Not from the storm, or from her distance from the fires; it grows in her chest like ice, painful and sharp.
And as she walks, shadows begin to follow her.
At first, there is only one. Taller than her, wider. It stays close but never touches her. At first, she barely even notices it. But as it grows closer, almost like it means to brush her arm, she turns and sees it. Looks up into the faded ring of blue around its neck, like a collar.
A second, shorter shadow joins the first as she passes wild, tangled forests. Those give her pause, as she considers them. How they draw her in. A ball of dark flutters about Shionne's head, then lands and melds with the second shadow.
She walks, and more begin to form. Another tall one, but taller than the first, with a quiet hum to it like music. A frenetic one, that dodges and weaves between the others, hardly stilling (and though it should get on her nerves, she finds the energy of it comforting.) The last to form is warm. Warm as a fire. It pushes Shionne along when she stares at the unwelcoming thorns of a forest too long with patient, wordless insistence. So she keeps going.
And they follow her, close but never touching.
It may be the cold in her heart that calls to this place. A cold, a frigid cold, that closes around her. She wraps her arms around her chest as her boots sink into snow. She sneezes as the cold creeps into her.
The first shadow moves close, and a cloak falls around her shoulders, lined with warm fur. It drapes it around her, then steps back again. A vigilant, unnecessary guard.
It's when she climbs a hill to see the path continuously leads upward that she sighs.] We'll tire out this way. We should take a rest here. [She says the words, then looks at them. The shadows are nothing, no one. She's alone. So she gathers the firewood herself, managing wood that has yet to soak through with moisture, and piles them up. Her eyes alight as fire is called, catching on the wood.
Tucking her dress underneath her legs, she sits on a log next to the fire and looks up. Watches the orbs above her that feel so terribly familiar, and yet wrong. She's not sure if she's any closer to what she's searching for, but here feels different than the last places. It feels, if only a tiny bit, closer.
And when the shadows settle around the fire in their own positions, with one on the same log as herself, she feels --
It's enough to bring a small smile to her face, though it falls soon enough.] It's too cold to be home. So why do I feel --
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So the flicker of firelight in the distance, a bright spot of colour against the washed out whites and shadowy blues that make up the landscape of Cyslodia? Is as much a lure as the continued tug she can feel in the astral energy of the Horizon. That. That has to be what this place was leading her towards. But why?
Or, better yet, who? Is this what others feel when others enter their domain when present on the Horizon?
There's only one figure at the fire as best as she can tell. Her descent down the mountain's path is slow and steady, mindful of the snowy path's ability to hide pitfalls for an unwary traveler. But it isn't until she's past the halfway mark that the white owlet suddenly hoots in excitement, circling her twice, before winging his way forwards and towards the camp at speed towards whatever it is that sharp bird eyes have spied. ]
Hootle! Hootle, wait!
[ She doesn't curse, though she's certainly learned more than a few new choice phrases in her time in Cadens, but she does pick up the pace a bit, trying to make out what has him so excited. Until the warmth of the fire casts more light on the intruder in her snowy realm, making pink tresses almost glow in a way that's an unexpected punch to her chest, breath sucked in at someone so familiar being here.
It can't be...can it..? ]
S-shionne?
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Who's there? [Her tone is sharp as a sword, face hard as she prepares for -- for anything. An attack, an ambush. The shadow-shaped people around her waver and solidify, then begin to fade.
What comes first can only be described as a chirping, flying sphere. An owl. She knows what an owl is. She lowers her makeshift weapon immediately, a faint blush spilling across her cheeks.] Oh. It's only --
[But it is not only an owl. A girl walks out. Shionne can't say what it is, but it feels... it feels just like that. Like a blow to her chest. Her hand comes over her heart as if to protect it as it trembles and tightens, beating a drum into her head.
Shionne. Her name. She isn't quite sure she's ever heard it before, and yet. She wants to believe she has. No one could survive being alone forever. Could they? So why can she not remember a time when she wasn't?]
You... know me?
[The words come out as a soft exhalation. Relief. Is that what she's been searching for? The relief of being known?
The shadows around the fire linger, but one suddenly sparks out of existence, like a candle extinguished. Shionne tosses the stick back on the fire. Whatever the barrage of feelings in her chest is, fear is not one of them. It's anything but that. She feels...
Happy. When she looks at the girl again, she smiles.] I didn't think anyone would be up here.
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[ She'd been warned. That sometimes, the Horizon could manifest the likeness of those you knew, if you wanted them present here hard enough. There'd been more to it than that, but at some point Jaskier had gotten distracted in his description by Ciri's interjections, and well. The point was, and is, that Rinwell stares at the woman sitting at the fire for far longer than would be considered polite under regular circumstances.
Never mind far too long for staring at a Renan.
(A Renan who would never have been first in her heart. And her parents have never manifested in this dream-psychic world, after all.)
There are shadows around the fire, shapes Rinwell cannot identify, so she doesn't try right now. Instead, she steps a little closer, as Hootle flutters in close to the pink haired woman, chirping happily in her direction as he perches on one of the stumps. She keeps the fire between herself and— ]
Shionne...When did you get here?
[ Cyslodia, the Horizon, or Abraxas proper: she knows what a shade she had conjured might say, but she asks anyway. ]
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Shionne's eyes follow the owl, shifting her legs as she relaxes once again. If the owl is content to be so close to her, there's not much to be wary of, is there?
It's so... so cute. It looks so soft.]
When? [She looks up again, her blue eyes level. There's a relaxation to Shionne's posture, as if climbing up snowy mountains is simply a spot of fun in her day. There's no weight. No prophecies, no knowledge of a sure, promised death. There's just... a girl, who doesn't want to be alone.
She pats the log beside her.] I don't... know. [And she should. She definitely should.] You said of course. And you know me? Are we... [She hesitates over the word, even now.] Friends?
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How untethered she had been, disconnected from and still inextricably linked to her home. (Answering questions about the owl forest once she'd returned to Cadens had been a trip on top of a trip.)
Rinwell releases the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and carefully steps closer. Soft small Hootle seems to have no such worries, has no doubt as to the identity of the person sitting at the fire. And Rinwell has ever trusted his feelings.
And when the log is patted, sits down. Close, but not too close. She knows all too well the sting of those thorns. ]
Well, where were you before you walked here? It looks like you'd been walking a while, if you stopped to make a fire now.
[ Her head tips to one side, and she has to pause and think herself. How does she answer that? She hadn't exactly been nice to Shionne, her tune only really changing in the last weeks before— ]
I.. Yeah. We haven't known each other very long, but I guess we're friends. [she smiles slightly, keeping her nerves steady] We were traveling together. You. Me and Hootle. [hoot!] With Law, and Kisara. Dohalim. And Alphen.
[there's an excited pulse suddenly, at the thought, the realisation:] Have you seen them around here too?
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Those are the things that are missing. When she looks at Rinwell, though, it feels as if something's been returned.
And Hootle, of course.]
A forest. Several forests, actually. One would cut off, then a new one begin. Then I saw these mountains, and... they were different from ones I saw before. [She shifts, uncomfortable.] I thought I recognized them.
[Her eyes grow larger as Rinwell explains. The names... don't mean anything, and yet her heart speeds up in her chest. As she lists a name, something inside Shionne unclenches. The syllables hit her ears the way they should. Slowly, around them, the shadows Shionne unwittingly created begin to solidify. Not enough to be entirely human, but features begin to craft themselves. A pole in one's hands. A fluff of darkness like fur on a shoulder. And one, the one that sits closest to Shionne, has a light grow in its chest.
She doesn't pay them any mind. They are... hers. Somehow. The only thing that makes her balk is the final question. She doesn't want to disappoint her friend, but she must. Shionne shakes her head.] No. I don't think so. You're the first person I've met in a while, really.
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[ The shadows are becoming distinct enough that both Rinwell and Hootle can make them out, and once she realises what they are...Who they are, her hands come together in front of her chest, clasping her pendant; another token, left behind back home, but here and still important.
Oh, she has missed the gatherings around the camp fire. This isn't the heart of her slice of domain, far from it. But there are echoes here of what Shionne might see, if only from their shared experience.
Being welcomed into the home of the Witchers has been the closest thing to her foundling group of friends, and now, one of them sits staring at her and doesn't really recognise her.
(It's funny, how that hurts a bit. It had never occurred to her that Shionne forgetting her might be painful.) ]
That's okay.. [it's not, but she pushes on] You're in a place called the Horizon right now. There's lots of overlapping areas, where others have claimed spaces and made them look like something from their home, usually. That way? [she points south] There's a place called Kamar-Taj, from a world that's not anywhere near ours. And to the east, there's a path through the mountains that connects to a place with a castle high above.
[ She hasn't actually strayed there herself, yet. She wants to ask permission from Geralt before entering his domain.
Hootle sits and preens for a moment, before hootling curiously at both girls, and Rinwell tilts her head, considering what he wants. ]
Do...Do you remember where you were before, Shionne? Before entering the Horizon?