Disclaimer: Again, I do not own any of these characters but Nathalie.
Please comment, tell me what you think. This chapter will explain more
about their customs. No flames, please. Also, statements within the :: are
thoughts, as I have yet to learn the HTML required for fanfiction, Thank
you again.
Eisheth's Call
******
Chapter Four: Eisheth's Call
I lay there, in the darkness, for a long while, by my own accounting.
By everyone else's, 'twas a full three days before I awakened to the foam of gray within my gaze, in a chamber unfamiliar to me, with all of the decorations in white. I blinked, then attempted to sit up; I did so easily, for all of the fuzziness in my mind of my stay within the comforting dark.
As I did the door swung open, a woman garbed in ivory hurrying in. She froze as she saw me sitting in the bed, attired in some sort of dressing gown- not my own, I knew. After a moment of resembling a deer caught in the gaze of a hunter the woman turned and bolted, much to my chagrin.
A part of my mind wondered how she could run in that infernal ivory dress that reached to her ankles, and another piece chuckled at this thought. With an exasperated sigh I halted the train of thought, listening as her footsteps receded into silence. The ensuing silence threatened to toss me back into the waves of black; I have never enjoyed the lack of sound. To combat the annoying lack I cleared my throat- or tried to.
Even the cough was broken for disuse, and when I tried to murmur a word it came out wheezed and garbled, completely unlike my voice. I attempted again, and then grabbed the glass of water beside my bed. Not truly caring who had possibly used it, I took a long gulp of the water, and dipped my fingers under the cool surface of the water. I dabbed my fingers at the corners of my eyes, in hopes of removing the residue of sleep.
Again I endeavored to create a noise, and this time the attempt produced a passable sound- still harsh and grating, but understandable. Another swallow of water, and I settled back against the pristine white pillows. Fragments of memory danced through my mind's eye, but nothing hinted at where I was- or what had happened. I last remembered the foam, a signal of something, I was sure. But what? Some sort of instinct?
My question was not left unanswered. At that moment another woman bustled in, garbed in a similar gown. Two figures followed her; I recognized them instantly. One possessed coal black hair, so similar to my own, streaked with gray. Another was far taller, with eyes nigh mirroring my own, lines wrinkling the forehead that were not present before.
"Hello mother, hello father." The words were still awkward from misuse, and I winced inwardly. The darkness must have claimed me for longer then I had originally suspected...
"Nathalie!" One word, just my name; it was murmured happily, full of wonder.
I opened my arms to my mother, who hurried over, and embraced me. The hug was gentle, as if afraid of harming me; though she clung for a moment longer, and I saw the relief in her eyes as she finally released me. My gaze turned to my father, who had trailed in my mothers wake. He touched my mother's shoulder gently before wrapping his arms around me.
This also betrayed how worried they must have been, for the embrace was not bone cracking as most of his were. ::Elua, how long was I out to scare them so...::
The woman who had entered first cleared her throat, shifting her weight to one side. She was a comely young woman, as D'Angelines are, her tresses golden in hue and her eyes a brilliant shade of emerald.
"Perhaps, my lady and my good sir, 'twould be wise for me to explain to Nathalie what placed in such a sleep that sustained for three days." The words were kind, with a subtle hint to encourage this idea. My mother was the first to respond, taking my father's arm and drawing him out of the room. I was left, with this woman, lips parted from the knowledge of how long I had drifted through the dark.
"Quite a while, isn't it? We thought you would heal faster, but as it was your first time." Her words registered; the rest had done my mind good, even though it had wreaked havoc on my voice. But the meaning was lost; first time?
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand." I croaked, watching as she padded over and seated herself upon my bed. Her eyes held great compassion as they rested upon my face.
"Then I will explain it to you, Nathalie." She did not use my title, and neither did she introduce herself. My newly awakened thoughts picked out the symbol on her shoulder; 'twas of Eisheth, meaning she was a healer as well as a priestess. The priestess paused for a moment, then began her story.
"I shall begin with a tale of long ago. I have no doubt you have heard of the Comtesse de Montreve, Phedre." I did not reply, merely nodding my head. Who hadn't heard of her? She was a hero of the realm thrice over; she would not be forgotten easily. "She is Kushiel's Chosen, god marked by him. I will not delve into that realm. Phedre is important in this story only because of her status amongst the gods. Kushiel and Naamah, though especially Kushiel, have gifted her with talents no other possesses, unless decided upon by the god. These could be called gifts of Gods; they could be curses of the immortals. Either way, they are set aside with these god marks."
Again the priestess paused, looking at me intently. "Every god has these chosen; they are simply few and generally unheard of. Except for Naamah's Servants, it is a select group, though why they are picked is for the Gods to know and only for them to know. Eisheth's god marked mortals are known as Eisheth's Light, and are under Eisheth's Call, just as Kushiel casts his dart. There hasn't been an Eisheth's Light in at least a century."
My eyebrows had drawn together, filing the information away. I said nothing still; her story was not yet over. "Those under Eisheth's Call are not just healers. They have a particular talent for mending wounds, but their true power healing of the mind. Basically, Eisheth's Light draws the pain from another and takes it for their own, the ultimate act of compassion. They have an incredibly empathy to do this; whether it be physical or a haunting of the mind, they can take the pain for their own."
She regarded me gravely, the gray foam rising once more in my gaze. ::This...this...Eisheth above...:: I could not speak the words that threatened to tear my throat in twain.
"Duchese Nathalie de Mereliot, you are Eisheth's Light."
The words seem to echo about the room. A pounding throb rose in my temples, incessantly crashing against my skull. The room skewed, tilting over on its side as gray foam reared its head into my vision, washing over the background.
"I...I...why in the world do you think that?" My words were incredibly foolish sounding; I knew it before they left my mouth. In defense, I had spent 3 days in the darkness because of this revelation; my thoughts certainly were not entirely coherent as of yet. The woman gifted me with an arched eyebrow, before sighing.
"Nathalie, that man at the ball had a shoulder wound, due to an arrow. His mind was tormented with images half remembered, feeling more then knowing what had occurred. Once you went over to him, his open gash- mind you, it was bleeding quite a bit- was completely healed, with only a trace of a scar. Now his mind rests easy, for you shouldered the burden of both pains. And being 'twas your first time, you exerted an incredible amount of power- and therefore spent three days in a faint. My dear, there was no question. Those who follow Eisheth's Path know her lore."
Perhaps my mind had taken this into account before; perhaps it merely needed to be said. Whatever it was, my thoughts, which had previously been rioting, calmed, waiting for her next words.
"Once you acquaint yourself with your ability, it will not take as much out of you. Mayhap you are only dizzy; if you are lucky enough, you experience no side effects, only the pain you take from the other. I warn you though: do not take this gift-curse lightly. Those who are God-Touched do not spend their time healing minor cuts and slightly strained minds." Her face was grave, perfectly somber. "I cannot overstress the possible repercussions for misusing your ability. Nathalie, I caution you not to attempt to find out."
This was all carefully filed away, cementing her words in my memory. Certain tales of Phedre are used as warnings to frighten children; not many enjoy the gift of being the victim of an attempted skinning. I did not wish to transverse that path. Always I have been rash, impulsive; never, however, have I been constantly foolish. I would not endanger myself by acting recklessly with a gift of a Goddess.
"Priestess...I have one other question for you." I began hesitantly. The nature of the request had previously been slumbering along with the rest of my conscious; what awakened it, I can not hazard a guess. "The...the memory I saw..." My voice trailed off; the nightmarish place rose into my forethoughts. The sudden horror, the tremendous weight of the hatred, of the blood, the bodies strewn about, the stench of blood ever-present, and that grinning face, forever grinning, slammed into me with force.
The coils of my stomach rebelled; I had taken no food, however, and so I was left to dry-retch until I gained control of my revolted self. The priestess said nothing, much to her credit, simply waiting until control descended upon my slight frame. "What....what was that place?" The words cracked, my voice barely a whisper. Looking at me with sympathy, the woman shook her head.
"Nathalie, I cannot answer that completely. All I know I heard from the Comtesse..." 'Twas her turn to hesitate, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "You saw a murdered country, its city defiled by hatred and its citizens either cruelly put to death or consumed with fear and greed for power. Phe?dre can answer your question, if you coax it out of her; or even...." A slight, humorless smile came to her face. "If you wish, seek out Imriel no Montreve. He, too, knows of the place which you saw. Both, however, were altered forever by what they were made to bear witness too. I warn you of this."
A knock sounded in the room, a nameless face appearing and then disappearing rapidly. The priestess sighed, and then rose from her sitting position. "Once you have more fully recovered, we shall speak of this again. I will endeavor to find Phedre. I believe the lady wishes to speak to you as well. Until then, Duchese."
With that she turned and exited, graceful even in that abominable creation of white silk. As the ensuing silence began to reverberate against the walls, thoughts started whirling about, tossing half images into my mind's eye. Various images danced and wove together, forming an intricate pattern. I uttered a sigh and dropped my head back to the pillow, possibly even more buried under half-answered questions and partly voiced thoughts then before. Closing my eyes, I surrendered myself once more to the darkness, which was blissfully silent.
****** ((I apologize for the delay in my writing. The next one should be along shortly. I am also most sorry for the presence of possible confusion if you haven't completed the trilogy- which you should do *Cough*. I'll clear that up next time. Please read and review! Thanks!
-Darth))
Eisheth's Call
******
Chapter Four: Eisheth's Call
I lay there, in the darkness, for a long while, by my own accounting.
By everyone else's, 'twas a full three days before I awakened to the foam of gray within my gaze, in a chamber unfamiliar to me, with all of the decorations in white. I blinked, then attempted to sit up; I did so easily, for all of the fuzziness in my mind of my stay within the comforting dark.
As I did the door swung open, a woman garbed in ivory hurrying in. She froze as she saw me sitting in the bed, attired in some sort of dressing gown- not my own, I knew. After a moment of resembling a deer caught in the gaze of a hunter the woman turned and bolted, much to my chagrin.
A part of my mind wondered how she could run in that infernal ivory dress that reached to her ankles, and another piece chuckled at this thought. With an exasperated sigh I halted the train of thought, listening as her footsteps receded into silence. The ensuing silence threatened to toss me back into the waves of black; I have never enjoyed the lack of sound. To combat the annoying lack I cleared my throat- or tried to.
Even the cough was broken for disuse, and when I tried to murmur a word it came out wheezed and garbled, completely unlike my voice. I attempted again, and then grabbed the glass of water beside my bed. Not truly caring who had possibly used it, I took a long gulp of the water, and dipped my fingers under the cool surface of the water. I dabbed my fingers at the corners of my eyes, in hopes of removing the residue of sleep.
Again I endeavored to create a noise, and this time the attempt produced a passable sound- still harsh and grating, but understandable. Another swallow of water, and I settled back against the pristine white pillows. Fragments of memory danced through my mind's eye, but nothing hinted at where I was- or what had happened. I last remembered the foam, a signal of something, I was sure. But what? Some sort of instinct?
My question was not left unanswered. At that moment another woman bustled in, garbed in a similar gown. Two figures followed her; I recognized them instantly. One possessed coal black hair, so similar to my own, streaked with gray. Another was far taller, with eyes nigh mirroring my own, lines wrinkling the forehead that were not present before.
"Hello mother, hello father." The words were still awkward from misuse, and I winced inwardly. The darkness must have claimed me for longer then I had originally suspected...
"Nathalie!" One word, just my name; it was murmured happily, full of wonder.
I opened my arms to my mother, who hurried over, and embraced me. The hug was gentle, as if afraid of harming me; though she clung for a moment longer, and I saw the relief in her eyes as she finally released me. My gaze turned to my father, who had trailed in my mothers wake. He touched my mother's shoulder gently before wrapping his arms around me.
This also betrayed how worried they must have been, for the embrace was not bone cracking as most of his were. ::Elua, how long was I out to scare them so...::
The woman who had entered first cleared her throat, shifting her weight to one side. She was a comely young woman, as D'Angelines are, her tresses golden in hue and her eyes a brilliant shade of emerald.
"Perhaps, my lady and my good sir, 'twould be wise for me to explain to Nathalie what placed in such a sleep that sustained for three days." The words were kind, with a subtle hint to encourage this idea. My mother was the first to respond, taking my father's arm and drawing him out of the room. I was left, with this woman, lips parted from the knowledge of how long I had drifted through the dark.
"Quite a while, isn't it? We thought you would heal faster, but as it was your first time." Her words registered; the rest had done my mind good, even though it had wreaked havoc on my voice. But the meaning was lost; first time?
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand." I croaked, watching as she padded over and seated herself upon my bed. Her eyes held great compassion as they rested upon my face.
"Then I will explain it to you, Nathalie." She did not use my title, and neither did she introduce herself. My newly awakened thoughts picked out the symbol on her shoulder; 'twas of Eisheth, meaning she was a healer as well as a priestess. The priestess paused for a moment, then began her story.
"I shall begin with a tale of long ago. I have no doubt you have heard of the Comtesse de Montreve, Phedre." I did not reply, merely nodding my head. Who hadn't heard of her? She was a hero of the realm thrice over; she would not be forgotten easily. "She is Kushiel's Chosen, god marked by him. I will not delve into that realm. Phedre is important in this story only because of her status amongst the gods. Kushiel and Naamah, though especially Kushiel, have gifted her with talents no other possesses, unless decided upon by the god. These could be called gifts of Gods; they could be curses of the immortals. Either way, they are set aside with these god marks."
Again the priestess paused, looking at me intently. "Every god has these chosen; they are simply few and generally unheard of. Except for Naamah's Servants, it is a select group, though why they are picked is for the Gods to know and only for them to know. Eisheth's god marked mortals are known as Eisheth's Light, and are under Eisheth's Call, just as Kushiel casts his dart. There hasn't been an Eisheth's Light in at least a century."
My eyebrows had drawn together, filing the information away. I said nothing still; her story was not yet over. "Those under Eisheth's Call are not just healers. They have a particular talent for mending wounds, but their true power healing of the mind. Basically, Eisheth's Light draws the pain from another and takes it for their own, the ultimate act of compassion. They have an incredibly empathy to do this; whether it be physical or a haunting of the mind, they can take the pain for their own."
She regarded me gravely, the gray foam rising once more in my gaze. ::This...this...Eisheth above...:: I could not speak the words that threatened to tear my throat in twain.
"Duchese Nathalie de Mereliot, you are Eisheth's Light."
The words seem to echo about the room. A pounding throb rose in my temples, incessantly crashing against my skull. The room skewed, tilting over on its side as gray foam reared its head into my vision, washing over the background.
"I...I...why in the world do you think that?" My words were incredibly foolish sounding; I knew it before they left my mouth. In defense, I had spent 3 days in the darkness because of this revelation; my thoughts certainly were not entirely coherent as of yet. The woman gifted me with an arched eyebrow, before sighing.
"Nathalie, that man at the ball had a shoulder wound, due to an arrow. His mind was tormented with images half remembered, feeling more then knowing what had occurred. Once you went over to him, his open gash- mind you, it was bleeding quite a bit- was completely healed, with only a trace of a scar. Now his mind rests easy, for you shouldered the burden of both pains. And being 'twas your first time, you exerted an incredible amount of power- and therefore spent three days in a faint. My dear, there was no question. Those who follow Eisheth's Path know her lore."
Perhaps my mind had taken this into account before; perhaps it merely needed to be said. Whatever it was, my thoughts, which had previously been rioting, calmed, waiting for her next words.
"Once you acquaint yourself with your ability, it will not take as much out of you. Mayhap you are only dizzy; if you are lucky enough, you experience no side effects, only the pain you take from the other. I warn you though: do not take this gift-curse lightly. Those who are God-Touched do not spend their time healing minor cuts and slightly strained minds." Her face was grave, perfectly somber. "I cannot overstress the possible repercussions for misusing your ability. Nathalie, I caution you not to attempt to find out."
This was all carefully filed away, cementing her words in my memory. Certain tales of Phedre are used as warnings to frighten children; not many enjoy the gift of being the victim of an attempted skinning. I did not wish to transverse that path. Always I have been rash, impulsive; never, however, have I been constantly foolish. I would not endanger myself by acting recklessly with a gift of a Goddess.
"Priestess...I have one other question for you." I began hesitantly. The nature of the request had previously been slumbering along with the rest of my conscious; what awakened it, I can not hazard a guess. "The...the memory I saw..." My voice trailed off; the nightmarish place rose into my forethoughts. The sudden horror, the tremendous weight of the hatred, of the blood, the bodies strewn about, the stench of blood ever-present, and that grinning face, forever grinning, slammed into me with force.
The coils of my stomach rebelled; I had taken no food, however, and so I was left to dry-retch until I gained control of my revolted self. The priestess said nothing, much to her credit, simply waiting until control descended upon my slight frame. "What....what was that place?" The words cracked, my voice barely a whisper. Looking at me with sympathy, the woman shook her head.
"Nathalie, I cannot answer that completely. All I know I heard from the Comtesse..." 'Twas her turn to hesitate, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "You saw a murdered country, its city defiled by hatred and its citizens either cruelly put to death or consumed with fear and greed for power. Phe?dre can answer your question, if you coax it out of her; or even...." A slight, humorless smile came to her face. "If you wish, seek out Imriel no Montreve. He, too, knows of the place which you saw. Both, however, were altered forever by what they were made to bear witness too. I warn you of this."
A knock sounded in the room, a nameless face appearing and then disappearing rapidly. The priestess sighed, and then rose from her sitting position. "Once you have more fully recovered, we shall speak of this again. I will endeavor to find Phedre. I believe the lady wishes to speak to you as well. Until then, Duchese."
With that she turned and exited, graceful even in that abominable creation of white silk. As the ensuing silence began to reverberate against the walls, thoughts started whirling about, tossing half images into my mind's eye. Various images danced and wove together, forming an intricate pattern. I uttered a sigh and dropped my head back to the pillow, possibly even more buried under half-answered questions and partly voiced thoughts then before. Closing my eyes, I surrendered myself once more to the darkness, which was blissfully silent.
****** ((I apologize for the delay in my writing. The next one should be along shortly. I am also most sorry for the presence of possible confusion if you haven't completed the trilogy- which you should do *Cough*. I'll clear that up next time. Please read and review! Thanks!
-Darth))