Path 3
Bonesinger
The Apprentice Part 2
A few minutes later Yaidev stepped back into the storeroom, dressed in her new gowns in the bright colour of bones, but with black runes along the hems of her sleeves. The cloth around her waist and the sash raven as well, unlike Halandur's crimson ones; it identified her as a Bonesinger's apprentice.
She regarded herself and smiled amused. Somehow it reminded her of a reverse version of her uniform as a Dark Reaper; how strangely fitting. Elowyn, who'd been waiting, nodded approvingly. "A little short at the arms, but they will do for your first days." She noted. "My father is almost finished, but he will join us upstairs. This is merely we keep any utensils and materials necessary for the crafting."
"I assume I will learn their purpose soon enough."
"After you have mastered the basics, yes."
Elowyn led her to a staircase that had been out of view behind another row of shelves, leading up along the wall to the storey above. The attic was very roomy and well lit due to several circular windows. The racks here held various instruments, both those used by Bonesingers and ordinary ones, which were played manually rather than by thought.
The floor was bare except for a few cushions and Yaidev noticed that the wood-looking walls were not even, but had dents. "They were intentionally created to assure better acoustics in this room." Elowyn explained as the crimson-haired eldar let her hand run over one of them.
"Are you a Bonesinger as well, Elowyn?"
The other eldar shook her head. "I was once. Currently I'm a musician, but I come here to practise or for inspiration. In a way, this place has always been a second home, so it is simple for me to find peace and let my mind wander here." She let a hand run over a string instrument, a violin of sorts. "Usually then the best ideas simply come on their own. Inspiration is nothing you can force."
The rustling of clothes downstairs announced Yaidev's new teacher and Halandur came up the stairs, a few pieces of parchment in his hands, along with a few pencils. As soon as he'd reached the attic he regarded the young Stormrider and nodded. "Yes, they will suffice, but I promise you'll have your own soon enough. I hope you're not offended by having to wear another one's robes."
Yaidev shook her head. "Of course not; please do not be concerned." She was indeed not bothered by such a triviality; they wear clean and in perfect condition. Besides, she was fairly certain that the uniform she'd been given by Cadaith and later her armour, had been worn by previous Dark Reapers as well.
"I'm glad to hear this." The Bonesinger replied. "Please sit. Elowyn; would you pick a flute for our first lesson and bring my own?"
"Of course." While the young eldar went to a shelf, opening one of the cases standing on it, Halandur turned his attention towards his new student and they sat down.
"Now: the Path of Shaping is close to that of the Seer, as here you too will learn to harness your inherent psychic potential, though in a much safer and more indirect manner. Still, often Seers will move on to the Path of Shaping or the other way around." He set aside the parchment and pencils next to him on the ground. "Of course no matter our Path, we all have our measures to protect ourselves from the dangers of our…'gifts'. As Bonesingers we are fortunate enough that our minds never touch upon the Sea of Souls, we do not summon the wraithbone directly, but let our music call it forth. It is one of the reasons why, despite its origin, the wraithbone is pure. The music is our conduit, summoning it, shaping it according to our will. Each tone can change your creation, be it colour, shape, or density; your song can manipulate almost any of its properties."
"Athari?"
"Ah, thank you my daughter." Elowyn handed him an ebony and a beige flute, each with ten holes along the body and sat down next to him. "Our music is very special. It is no secret that other races have used songs to summon forth the horrors of the Sea of Souls and while we too must be careful with ours, we are well protected. What lures forth the beasts is wild and bedlam, neither of which will be taught here and the fools summoning them use specific instruments, which no eldar would ever lay hands on. And when we play our music, we are tranquil." Halandur smiled encouragingly. "But fear not; it doesn't mean that you must detach from your emotions. What is important is calmness and focus, not only for additional safety but the quality of your work. I will explain more in due time, once you are ready."
Quietly Yaidev nodded, suppressing a surfacing feeling of insecurity. She had never heard of a Bonesinger or artist getting harmed while shaping the wraithbone. Certainly this information had been added for good measure and to give her a fair warning.
Halandur continued. "Before we can begin with the art of bonesinging itself, you must learn to play the various instruments and how to create any tone you desire. The correct key is also important. Imagine you try to create something as simple as a vase; playing high tones in one key will make tall and slender, but in another, high tones will make the wraithbone thinner. Our music is like a language, one in which you must become fluent. First, simple shapings can be done earlier, while you are still a beginner, but not without the necessary fundamentals, which we'll begin to practise today. Have you ever played an instrument before? The flute perhaps?"
Wind instruments, such as the flute, were perhaps the most common among eldar and at least on Saim-Hann every eldar had played some variant at some point in his or her life. Music was a great part of their culture and their ceremonies after all. "Many years ago, when I was too young for the Paths." Yaidev replied. "Though I fear I've forgotten much since then."
"No matter; I promise once you play again, many things will swiftly come back to you." Her new teacher assured her. "The second part of your early education will be visualization." With a hand he gestured at the parchments. "You will daily draw various objects, some from memory, until you can depict complex structures to the finest detail. Only the union of mind and music can create great works of craftsmanship. Otherwise a sharp blade might be brittle or an engine could stay lifeless."
The young Stormrider only nodded again. She had no doubt that her new Path would prove challenging and she would certainly be well occupied in the future. Still, the prospect began to delight her, the possibility to experience something new was undeniably enticing and so she was eager to begin. Her eyes already lingered on the flutes in Halandur's hands, which didn't escape the craftsman.
"The true instruments of a Bonesinger are mostly guided by one's thought. Naturally we cannot begin with them, so you will practise first with the normal instruments of the musicians. I'll have Elowyn instruct you each morning; she's more than suited I assure you." Yaidev looked up to the other woman, who bowed her head affirmatively. It was actually a delightful prospect; the musician seemed like a pleasant person to be around. "I however will give you your first lesson today and naturally check regularly on your progress. Do you have any more questions, or would you like to begin and take your first steps on the Path of Shaping?"
"I gave none at this moment, but there I have the feeling there will be in the future." She confessed.
"Of course. Whenever they arise, please do not hesitate to ask." As she nodded he held the ebony flute out to her. "Then we shall begin and reacquaint you with the flute. Let us see how well you do with the musical scale; the ascending first."
…
Yaidev was lying on her bed that night, or perhaps it was already the next cycle, feeling both tired and invigorated. She had practised until the evening hours, playing the flute at first, beginning with notes to construct a simple and still rather short musical scale. Her lack of practise had been quite noticeable and several tones had sounded off. Halandur had proven a patient teacher, demonstrating notes on his own instrument and adjusting the placement of her fingers, as well as her overall fingering.
"Not so tense." He'd reminded her. "Your fingers must sit lightly like a bird on a branch, ever ready to take flight."
Eventually they had moved on, once she's improved well enough and had begun with short melodies, consisting of only a few different notes and lasting no longer than a minute. Whatever he 'd played on his flute, Yaidev had tried to recreate with varying success, though the young Stormrider couldn't deny that she was beginning to develop a certain feeling for the way of playing this instrument.
After hours Halandur had continued his lessons with the promised drawing exercise, though she only had to draw mere sketches of geometric objects like a cube and sphere for the time being. Halandur had then pointed out flaws in her technique, shown her ways to improve the shading and Yaidev suspected that things like the drawing from memory would only begin once he was satisfied with her skills.
Elowyn had left some time during the lessons to continue somewhere else with her own compositions and Halandur too had left his new student from time to time to tend to his works and the occasional costumer. Frankly Yaidev had enjoyed the opportunities to train on her own without anyone's watchful eyes or keen ears paying full attention to her. She was certainly more conscious about such things now, than during her time as a warrior. In any case it had felt as if she'd made less mistakes while she'd been alone; or perhaps her unexperienced ears simply hadn't pick them all up.
In the evening she'd returned to her parents' house, once more dressed in her own vestments. While despite her years on the Warrior's Path her apartment was doubtlessly untouched, due to the size of the craftworld and the ever diminishing number of eldar, Yaidev felt it best to stay with her family for now, at least until the Maida Rha'Kerunas.
Her parents were delighted about her new Path and the young eldar suspected that being a armourer's apprentice had something to do with that. Naturally, while not opposed to it, they had initially been less enthusiastic about her chosen teacher. Obviously they would have preferred it, if she'd gone to one of the Stormriders, but given that they too had been guided to a Path in a similar manner in the past, they had not questioned her decision for long. Alandis however had reminded her to be especially mindful about her words and actions.
Yaidev sighed and regarded the object she was currently holding in her hand. Her father had recovered a set of flutes and a sash, which had once belonged to her aunt Shadira, who had walked the Path of Shaping until the day of her death. The sash was made of dragon leather from an Exodite World, one of the appropriate materials for a student, at least on Saim-Hann with its close ties to their planet-dwelling cousins. The brown, smooth material was heavier than the dark cloth Elowyn had given her, but Yaidev liked the texture and after having worn Dark Reaper armour for years, the weight was no bother.
The flutes themselves were beautiful and had been crafted by Shadira herself. They all were ivory, each with a sky-blue line snaking itself around the body, though when turned in the light, the line could appear turquoise or even green.
Yaidev was holding one, which was the same as the flute she'd practised with today. She remembered how her aunt had played on these instruments, a long time ago, when Yaidev had been a child and not yet travelled the Paths. How strange to now hold one in her hands…and to work with them from now on.
Yaidev closed her eyes and gently pressed the flute against her body. She would visit Shadira's grave one day, but not now. For that she wanted to be a fully recognized Stormrider. She would go after she'd passed the Maida Rha'Kerunas.
For the following cycles, Yaidev settled into her new routine, once more getting used to a new Path and the changes in her lifestyle it brought with it.
In the morning before leaving her home, she would train her voice, going up and down the musical scale like a singer, practising to create any sound she wanted. Naturally she was far from perfect and Yaidev was grateful that no one, aside from her parents maybe, when they happened to be close by, could hear her. Her breathing technique however had already improved, something Halandur had mentioned during her second day to be also rather important, as breaks to catch ones breath during the summoning, could only be made at specific points. Interrupting the melody at a wrong moment to take a breath could potentially ruin days of work.
At the workshop itself she would continue this exercise with her instrument under Elowyn's supervision, while her father was occupied with his work. Elowyn had a keen ear, unsurprising for a professional musician and her merry demeanour was not only pleasant, but reminded the Stormrider of Ilthaldir. With her help Yaidev daily improved her skills, now not only with the flute but a string instrument as well.
Afterwards, her lessons would continue with drawing exercises, just like on her first day, though they now included the copying of intricate designs and some simpler ones she had to draw from memory. These proved exhausting at times, even a little frustrating, when a slight mistake caused the entire sketch to look crooked and forced her to begin anew. But Elowyn had found a way to encourage her, by showing old drawings she had made, when she'd begun with the Path of Shaping and still kept as mementoes and truly they did not look any more serviceable than Yaidev's. Together they had found themselves laughing about their own mistakes and crudeness and the initial frustration had soon be forgotten.
Elowyn sometimes stayed the entire day and would play her music as the Stormrider practised her draftsmanship, even asking Yaidev's opinion once in a while and that of her father whenever he was present. Halandur himself seemed quite pleased with Yaidev's progress, though he still had additional advice to offer her each day.
All in all, Yaidev remained enthusiastic about her new Path, despite the occasional frustrating moment. She'd overcome worse, back when she'd trained hand-to-hand combat alone with Cadaith, at least that's how it felt to her and the pencil didn't leave her with bruises. No, this was a Path she could truly feel comfortable with and already she was looking forward with excitement to her first shaping.
One evening after her practise, Yaidev didn't immediately return to the Stormriders' dome, but instead went to the Windserpents. It had been weeks since Felanwé had fallen in battle and by now the traditional time of mourning had passed, meaning she as an outsider could attend the gravesite without offending the kindred.
The dome she'd entered was very similar to that of the Stormriders, though instead of wraithbone, Yaidev found herself walking across a green, perfectly trimmed lawn, soft beneath her boots. The numerous towers and other buildings lined the walls, leaving the centre as a huge open plaza with sculptures, fountains and flowerbeds, which seemed random, but Yaidev couldn't shake the feeling that they looked very differently from above.
Jetbikes rushed past above her head, one group apparently racing, the handful of pilots constantly trying to outmanoeuvre one another. Smiling Yaidev watched them for a moment, her nervousness that had been building up on her way here momentarily forgotten. She too should soon ride again; after all, what good was a Wild Rider, who could not keep up with her own kindred?
As she was wearing her very own Bonesinger-vestments now, she didn't stand out as much as she would have with her clan's colours and at first no one paid heed to her presence. After a while however an eldar approached her, likely having noticed her curiosity and constant head-turning as she looked around as only a stranger would.
The eldar was about a head taller than her, with fair hair, dressed in green and brown robes. "I bid you welcome to the home of the Windserpents." He spoke, bowing his head politely though his voice was cool, his brown eyes ever so slightly narrowed. "May I ask what you seek in our halls?"
Yaidev returned his gesture and replied in a more neutral manner. "I am Yaidev Baharothaís and I was sister in arms to one of your clan known as Felanwé, when we followed the teachings of Maugan Ra together. I was present when he fell in battle and now that I have left the Path of the Warrior I wish to pay my respects to one, who stood by my side in battle until the very end."
She seemed to have surprised him, which she enjoyed a little bit. "Your intentions honour you, Baharothaís, daughter of Thalduin." The eldar responded, actually sounding pleased, his smile now seeming more sincere if not yet warm. "Please, allow me to escort you to Ilaria, his mother."
"My sincerest gratitude." Yaidev ignored that her heart had made a leap; she was not sure what to expect from such a confrontation.
He simply nodded and with a gesture invited her to follow him. Yaidev was led to one of the larger buildings, almost temple-like in its appearance, about three storeys high with a pagoda rising up from the middle of the concave roof, stairs in front leading to lofty arches. It was mostly white, though the roof of the main building and those of the tiered tower were azure, lines of gold running down and along the walls like rivers or vines.
As they walked inside through the tallest arch at the top of the staircase, Yaidev realized that it was a library, or at least the ground-floor was. Books, scrolls, crystals and data-slates, in fact any kind of medium available filled the shelves, row after row, the central corridor lined by several, meters high statues, doubtlessly famous members of the Windserpents, though she sadly had no time to study them.
Her guide followed the corridor until they reached a fountain with a spouting snake and turned left. They continued to walk until they reached another flight of stairs to their right, leading to the first floor. Yaidev had already noticed that even from the ground floor she could see all the way up to the roof, as the other two storeys only went along the sides of the building. Absentmindedly Yaidev let a hand brush over the balustrade of the first floor, now eye in eye with the statues and their blank, yet stern glares.
To their left were several smaller rooms for recreational reading and study, some hidden behind blue curtains to ensure privacy, while others had not bothered to close them, allowing the Stormrider to steal a glance inside.
Finally her guide stopped at one of the curtains and knocked at the doorframe. "You may enter." A soft, feminine voice answered.
The Windserpent pushed the curtain aside, entered and held it in place for Yaidev to follow him inside the small, but comfortable room. There was only a small window, round and opaque, yet the artificial light was warm, like that created by a fire. Well-trimmed shrubs added dashes of green, nicely contrasting from the beige walls. The pillows were of soft colours, mostly shades of yellow and green. But even as Yaidev studied the room, her eyes were on a woman with a book in her hands.
Like Felanwé his mother had black hair, which flowed openly over her back, with the exception of a few slim braids, each held together at the end by an emerald pearl. She looked up from her book with violet eyes and regarded the younger eldar with a neutral expression, though it was underlined with curiosity. Yaidev noticed immediately her noble bearing as she sat there cross-legged, straight but relaxed. Without haste she closed the book and set aside on a low table by her side, next to a cup filled to the brim with steaming tea.
This time Yaidev bowed lower as her guide introduced her. "Honoured Keeper, may I present to you Yaidev Baharothaís, nionis an-Thalduin n'Alandis, sister in arms to Felanwé otBuanna."
The woman nodded. "Thank you, Liandur. You may return to you duties." Her voice, was warm and soft, yet managed to carry authority; she was certainly an experienced orator.
Liandur bowed and left, closing the curtain behind him, as Yaidev was invited to sit on a cushion.
"I am Ilaria, Keeper of Tales to the Windserpents."
No wonder she was treated with such respect. Wild Riders were proud of their deeds, both in war and peace, thus each clan had at least one chronicler, who would write down and preserve the annals and tales of their kindred. These included any significant event, such as battles, the traditional races between clans or celebrations like the Aonaidril and Nua-Haras.
The highest ranking of these chroniclers was named Keeper of Tales and commonly these individuals were lost on the Path of the Scholar, usually specialized in history, therefore eager to keep adding and preserving it.
Naturally each clan revered their Keeper, their Ràtra'im, and despite rarely partaking in battle themselves, the Keepers were high in the hierarchy of their respective clan and often turned to for advice. Many Riders, including chiefs, were actually more comfortable with seeking wisdom from the past through them, than seeking knowledge of the future with the help of the enigmatic Seers.
"I have heard of you, Yaidev." Ilaria began friendly. "As our clans are presently at peace I had some correspondence with the Stormriders' Ràtra'im. It seems you have found your way home."
Yaidev's keen ears didn't miss the sorrow underlining her last sentence and she knew the Keeper's heart was with her son. "Only recently." The younger eldar admitted.
"You were with the Singing Scythe?"
She nodded and resisted the urge to lick her dry lips. "Yes, for thirteen years I was a student of Maugan Ra's teachings."
"And you fought alongside my son." It was not a question, but Yaidev nodded nonetheless. "Where you present, when he fell?" Ilaria's voice was low as she spoke and her gaze was focused on the table, following the still rising steam of her tea.
"I was, revered Ràtra'im." The crimsoned-haired woman began slowly. "Though I don't remember all events clearly as my mask was donned at the time." Her tone could almost be called apologetically; Yaidev didn't wish to add to the Keeper's pain, be it by telling too much or not enough about her son's final moments.
"Please, tell me how it happened." The other woman asked her softly. "To the best of you memories."
Yaidev closed her eyes and allowed the images to come to her. And she told Ilaria everything she recalled: the roof, the furies and her failed attempt to save Felanwé.
Yaidev felt herself shudder, when she spoke of the daemons, a cold shiver running down her spine into her very soul. All the time the young eldar kept her eyes closed, fearing the memory could fade away, if her concentration wavered. Besides, she didn't wish to meet Ilaria's gaze at this moment.
Eventually she finished her story, just at the point when Cadaith had called her back to the battle. Yaidev opened her eyes again and looked at her legs. Slowly she began to lift her head, when the Keeper wouldn't speak and the silence following her tale prolonged.
The younger eldar saw that the Ràtra'im had lowered her gaze, one hand lying on the other, clenching it softly. Yaidev felt even more uncomfortable than at her arrival; the pain she must have caused Felanwé's mother with just a few sentences.
Sitting on her legs Yaidev bowed down, her hands on the floor in front of her, her forehead almost touching them. "Forgive me, honoured Keeper. All I brought you this day is woe." She started, still bowing, her voice lower than she would have liked, but she was fighting to keep her own emotions in check; sometimes she envied other species for not being able to experience emotions so strongly. "All I can lay before you is my guild…for failing to save your son." And my friend.
Yaidev remained in her position and for a moment there was only silence again. "I cannot forgive you." The young Stormrider winced. "For there is nothing that must be forgiven." Slowly Yaidev lifted her head, her re-opened eyes shimmering. Ilaria looked at her and though she smiled softly, she could not quite hide her sorrow, the tears gathering in her violet eyes as well. "I know battle and not even the wisest Farseer or Autarch can prevent all deaths. You were still valiant enough at heart to try; as far as I know, you were the only one to do so." Her smile grew warmer. "For that you have my gratitude, Yaidev Baharothaís."
Relief washed through the young eldar, taking with it the tension that had built up inside her. "Thank you, Ràtra'im Ilaria." She replied with true gladness, her voice sounding more confident again and she bowed anew, this time only briefly, but enough to convey her appreciation.
"Now, I sense you had another purpose for coming here this day." The Keeper noted after a pause. "I see that you have a request and it's on the tip of your tongue."
Yaidev nodded; the older eldar became, the better they usually got at hiding their emotional expressions, though in turn they also became experts in reading them. The smallest flicker or briefest twitch of a single muscle told them as much as an open smile or the deepest frown. That the Ràtra'im had read her so easily was no surprise. "Originally I came to pay my respects to Felanwé." She confessed. "I sadly had no earlier opportunity to do so properly."
Ilaria rose gracefully to her feet, her emerald robes rustling softly as she did. "I'll gladly grand your request, Yaidev. Please, follow me."
…
The Keeper of Tales led Yaidev to another dome, connected only to the one of the Windserpents, but much smaller. Pillars lined the path leading directly to the entrance, while a winged serpent sat enthroned upon the archway, beyond which the young Stormrider saw only twilight.
Ilaria stopped at the entrance. "Welcome to our Hall of Remembrance." She spoke solemnly. "Few outsiders have seen it and I trust you will show the outmost respect to our fallen and ancestors, while you are here."
"I shall, you have my word."
Ilaria nodded, satisfied with her response and the two eldar entered. Yaidev's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light of the great hall. Compared to the garden-like version of the Stormriders, with its countless trees, walking into this Hall of Remembrance reminded more of entering an awe-inspiring temple. Numerous pillars, ornamented with reliefs, rose to the high ceiling, all directly lighted from below, giving the room a mysterious and ancient feel; Yaidev's awareness that she did not truly belong in this place that she was in another clan's sanctum, added to this. It was humbling and even intimidating.
The only other light source was an oculus at the center, though the light entering through it failed to illuminate anything but the floor directly beneath it. As the two eldar walked through the hall, Yaidev could hear their every step echo, thanks to her keen ears, even though they stepped softly.
Parts of the walls themselves reminded her of honeycombs; every now and then the part realistic and part stylized mosaics along the walls were interrupted by groups of them, each honeycomb housing an urn, sometimes two.
Ilaria lead the young eldar through the hall, searching her way past the pillars, until they reached a group at the left side of the room. Yaidev saw now that each urn was covered with glyphs and one seemed to have been added only recently.
She had already smelled the scent of incense sticks and now she saw them next to an obsidian container. Significantly less glyphs covered the dark wraithbone, testament of Felanwé's youth at the time he'd fallen and Yaidev identified the runes of the Dark Reapers and their former shrine among them.
Some colour powder from the burial ceremony could still be spotted on the urn and around it; it was mostly red, the colour of Khaine, as he's died a disciple of the Bloody Handed One. There was also a little bit of black, somewhat like ash and only differed slightly from the remains of the already burned incense sticks.
Yaidev's heart felt heavy again, as she looked upon the urn; it was a little alien to think that everything physical that remained of her brother in arms, her friend, was contained in this simple container of obsidian wraithbone.
Of course his soul rested within the Infinity Circuit, but it was among countless others, where only a Spiritseer, or maybe a skilled Seer could find it. The spirit stone itself, like most of Saim-Hann's fallen, was now in the Halls of the Remembered, where souls were given to the Circuit and Seers could call upon them again. The reason why Yaidev was here and not in those halls was simple; this was Felanwé's home and it was customary on Saim-Hann to leave offerings for the dead at their physical graves. Besides, it was considered to be beyond the pale to disturb the dead directly, a reason why only in times of desperate need, they were called upon to fight alongside the living and the Halls of the Remembered could be an eerie place, filled with whispers, as the world of living and dead were very close there. No, here Yaidev could honour her friend in peace, among his own, where he belonged.
"It still fills me with sorrow that I must visit my son in this place." Ilaria confessed quietly, a lonely tear finding its way down her cheek. "That he came to rest here so soon." It was difficult to imagine how it was to outlive one's child; for Yaidev it had been painful enough to lose her aunt and a friend, but she was certain that it could not compare to a mother's loss. "I shall give you a few moments alone."
"My sincerest gratitude, Ràtra'im Ilaria." Yaidev wished she could say something more, something compassionate and consoling, but neither her mind nor tongue could find the right words.
Felanwé's mother stepped aside and disappeared behind a pillar in the twilight of the hall, her steps and their echoes soon fading, until it was absolutely silent. Yaidev turned to the urn and swallowed; she had long pondered what to say and the words were heavy on her tongue. For a while she did not speak, until eventually she lit an incense stick, which she had brought along. The scent calmed her and then she finally spoke.
Eldar Language:
otBuanna= Dark Reaper/s (Eldar)
Ràtra'im= Keeper/Preserver (b.o. Gaelic)
Author's note: Maybe a bit short, but I believe there was enough exposition stuffed into this chapter already. In the next one, an actual bonesinging-lesson will be featured, along with the coming of age ritual, the Maida Rha'Kerunas.