Author's Note: My exams are sadly pretty much preoccupying my focus and attention. For those who don't know, it is for that reason that I'm also publishing a story called "Fox & Raven" on a biweekly schedule right now, which I've finished writing a while ago. Taking place when she's already a Pathfinder, Yaidev is one of two protagonists in that story; this time she gets to/is forced to work with Cyrus from Dawn of War 2. I promise I get back to writing as soon as possible, once this crazy stressful time is behind me.
Path 3
Bonesinger
The Apprentice 4
It was morning and the lights on Saim-Hann were still dim, brightening only gradually at a very slow pace. Yaidev had time to spare. Halandur and Elowyn were occupied with a meeting of the Windserpents until noon, and having finished her singing practise Yaidev had left her apartment and walked to the nearby dome of her own clan.
There was little activity, with most eldar either preparing for the day or being already occupied with the duties of their individual Paths. Yaidev meanwhile headed straight for a specific building, a relatively small one storey house, which was more of an attachment to the much larger, temple-like construct next to it, her clan's own library. The roof was flat, rather uncharacteristic for the usually lofty constructs of the eldar, though there was a canopy spanning across it, vines coiling themselves around the wood-coloured and curved joists, which formed a loose grid.
Slowly Yaidev walked up the staircase along the outer wall, already hearing a familiar voice from the top. It was one of the places her father liked to hold his lectures.
Reaching the top she saw that Thalduin was standing at the center of the roof beneath the canopy in a pan, his students in a loose semi-circle around him, each on a small carpet, atop flat stairs that lead into the pan. All his students were adolescent, probably not even half a century old, though still of varying age.
Usually on Saim-Hann children spent their first years with their parents and close family. After that they would additionally be taught by tutors on various subjects, until they were old enough to walk their first Path. As eldar had relatively few children compared to other races in the galaxy, all adolescents of a clan were in the same class, no matter their exact age.
Yaidev didn't wish to interrupt the lesson, especially one given by her father, and so she simply remained at the balustrade of the roof and listened.
Thalduin walked back and forth as he spoke. "Every craftworld, every faction our people have split into, preserves aspects of our past in their own way. Some more than others, the Exodites and Harlequins perhaps most of all." He stopped and looked at his students. "Can you tell me why we still honour our gods, as our ancestors once did?"
A girl, one of the younger students replied. "It is our heritage and tradition."
Thalduin turned to her, with the ghost of a smile. "Ah, yes. But that is only part of the truth, for tradition is hollow without meaning." His expression became more serious, his previous neutral voice a touch sombre. "Our gods have perished. Even the mighty Khaine was shattered and though his shards walk with us on the battlefield, though they inspire us to greatness, the god himself isn't truly anymore. Only the Laughing God yet remains, dwelling in the webway with his Harlequins. There are even a few, who claim that our mother Isha yet lives, prisoner in a hellish realm within the Sea of Souls." He paused to let his words sink in. "Despite this we call to our gods still. We do not pray, hoping or expecting that our pleas will be answered by them. We know they no longer watch over us or stand by our side in times of struggle."
None of his students dared to speak, a heavy silence following his words.
"We call for them, because they give us comfort and inspire us; what they represent and stand for is still of great relevance. And when we invocate them, we are once more close to our gods, our ancestors and the very essence of what we are."
Thalduin talked a touch faster now; it was almost enthusiastic for him, though his expression showed no emotions. As his daughter Yaidev knew him well enough to read to tiniest signs however, and heard the small change in his voice.
"We remember our past and the legends of our people and gods to remind ourselves what adversities we've already overcome, and how hubris and other sins have almost led to our end on more than one occasion. Mistakes that have been forgotten, which we no longer fear are mistakes we are doomed to repeat.
Our legends are lessons; they teach us humility and give us wisdom. Our rituals, cruel and primitive as they seem to some of our brethren, remind us of the values we should live by. On the Warrior's Path and on the battlefield, Khaine teaches us bravery in face of any adversity, self-sacrifice as we call to mind what we have to protect, what we need to be willing to die for.
The Maida Rha'Kerunas, in which we honour our father Kurnous reminds us of the value of life and we are taught to provide for our own. The rites of the Truathas an-J'Ishar dedicated to Isha, teaches us to care for others and not turn away from those in need. Yes, we honour them, as what they teach is still relevant to us today. And because what they have done has impacted our past and made us who we are today.
Akin to our ancestors they may be gone, but deserving of our respect nonetheless, and remembering them helps us understand who we were, who we are and what we should hold dear, what we should value." He lifted a finger, pointing it upwards in a warning gesture. "But even our rituals must adept with the times." He regarded his students thoughtfully his eyes narrowing a little. "Do you remember the origin of the Saraonaidril?"
One of the older students lifted his hand and Thalduin nodded. The boy rose from his carpet, before he started to speak. "Before the Fall we eldar would die, but our souls would be reborn in a new body. Some of our people bonded with another for a single lifetime, knowing they would return somewhat different upon rebirth, some almost a new person. But other wished to be bonded for all eternity, throughout all lifetimes. The ritual of the Saraonaidril, allowed them to find their loved ones in their following lives, to recognize the one they were meant to be with."
Thalduin nodded approvingly and the student sat back down. "Yes, we are no longer reborn, we only have one precious lifetime, one in which we are so vulnerable. Because of that we had to change in order to survive; we created the Paths to keep us safe, but it brought new dangers. Each Path illuminates certain aspects of our selves, and so the experiences, the lessons we learn, can change us fundamentally. We can even become someone else."
Thalduin paused briefly, his gaze avoiding his students for a moment. Yaidev felt pity for her father; he had lost the first woman he'd loved in that manner. It lasted only a second, perhaps two, the students likely hadn't even noticed, before he continued.
"And on the other hand there are the never ending conflicts we find ourselves in, in our struggle to survive and reclaim as much of our heritage as we can. Death has become a true threat to us, and so many shy away from the Saraonaidril, knowing its original purpose can never be fulfilled. And yet in its own way, it is perhaps the strongest proof of affection we can give to another. But it doesn't diminish the Aonaidril.
It in turn allows us to separate if we have estranged beyond what we can bear or are forced by death's cold hand, so we may find new love. It is important to remember that those who chose the Aonaidril, do not chose it for their own sake, but for that of the one they love. We do it so the one we love is not forced into loneliness should the worst come to be, in whatever shape or form. Both rituals show our love and devotion in their own way, so everyone must choose the one that is right for them." His subtle smile returned. "Now, I believe Ratra'im Adaryn's lesson will begin shortly. I will see you all tomorrow."
The young students rose and bowed to their chief and tutor, before they gathered whatever they had used to make notes and left. Only now did they see Yaidev, every one of them bowing once more as they passed her. As soon as the last had left the roof, the crimson-haired eldar joined her father, who was waiting in the pan.
"I'm surprised to see you at this hour." Thalduin greeted her, though it wasn't unfriendly, merely a statement. "Is your teacher not expecting you?"
Yaidev shook her head. "There is a meeting, so my lessons will only begin at noon and I thought perhaps you would be curious to see the finished work." Yaidev placed a hand on her upper right arm and pulled up the short, red sleeve.
Following Saim-Hannian custom, the young eldar had received more tattoos to commemorate her accomplishments. For now the runes of Khaine and Kurnous had been tattooed side by side, but a little staggered to each other. There were additional small shapes, like lines and triangles in black, same as the runes, as well as lines of blood red and a few finer ones of sky blue. They all came together to create an elaborate design, which was meant to become a sleeve of its own, starting at her shoulder and could probably extent one day to her back and down to her hand.
While Yaidev had completed other rites before the Path of the Warrior and the Maida Rha'Kernuas, only the runes of the greatest gods of the pantheon were eternally drawn into the skin.
Thalduin examined her new, now healed tattoos with keen eyes. "Ah, it is beautiful. I shall give my compliments to the artist." He finally remarked, pleased by the designs and quality. His own already covered his right arm like a sleeve, part of his chest and the entirety of his back, some designs in remembrance of great deeds, though they were often hidden by his robes. "I hope he will soon be able to continue his fine work."
Yaidev smiled confidently in return. "We shall see, Athari." She merely replied, feeling a little feisty.
He merely nodded. "There is something else. I was planning on telling you tonight, but now that you are here." Yaidev frowned, suddenly feeling less comfortable. "There is going to be a Council meeting; Farseers, Autarchs and Chiefs. And I want you to accompany me."
Not the news she'd been expecting, but this of exceptional significance. It meant her father would begin to prepare her as his successor. "I'm honoured, but I miss the final ritual; I'm not yet fully admitted into our clan." The Maida Rha'Kerunas made her an adult, but her rank had to be earned by blood in battle alongside her kindred.
He lifted a hand to stop her. "You are a Stormrider, Yaidev. You may not possess all rights and privileges yet, but you are one of us and you are of my blood. That alone gives you the right to attend with me, though it will be as an observer only."
The last was no suggestion, but an order, despite his voice remaining emotionless. Still, this opportunity meant much to her. "Thank you, Athari."
"It is time you learn more about the politics of Saim-Hann, and what you'll have to expect once you ascend in the hierarchy of the Stormriders. It will be a useful lesson." There was a fleeting, but satisfied smile; he too had waited for this day. "But remember; you mustn't speak, especially not against anyone, or you will insult them and dishonour me."
All eldar, but Saim-Hannian most of all, were easily insulted; their grandiloquence, was in part a result of this. Yaidev nodded, her smile exchanged for a more serious expression. "Of course." Having lost her aunt in an honour duel, the severity of a possible consequence should she fail to comply was burned into her memory. "When is the meeting?"
"In a fortnight. We will discuss the details another time, for I must go to meet with the Ràtra'im Farturas." The so called Keeper of Arms was one of the highest ranking Bonesingers of the clan, in charge of maintaining military gear and vehicles, ensuring that every warrior could be sufficiently equipped in times of war. While all Wild Riders took care and modified their own personal equipment, the Ràtra'im Farturas acted as an overseer of sorts, with whom Thalduin regularly met. "The Bonesingers are still replenishing our losses from the last battle."
"Still?"
Thalduin nodded. "Vehicles take time; they must be created, tested and tuned. And to be safe I ordered to creation of a few additional crafts, not to mention the repairs and creation of new weapons and armours." His smile briefly returned. "Perhaps soon you will able to help with that task."
Yaidev shook her head softly, but she too smiled again. "My training is going well, but I'm afraid it will take time before I can fabricate anything of the complexity of a weapon."
"Every Path takes years to complete; perfection is more important than quickness." He noted thoughtfully; most Paths were wandered for more than a century, as things like sophistication, discipline and self-discovery were the goal. "Learn well, not fast."
"I shall."
Once more he nodded and Yaidev bowed her head respectfully as he bid his farewell. "Elith, Nionis; I will see you this evening."
Time seemed to have flown after the Maida Rha'Kerunas. While Yaidev had returned to her own apartment not far from the dome since the ritual, she was a frequent visitor in the Stormriders' home. Often, following her bonesinging lessons, she would train with her kindred, mostly to re-familiarize herself with the Jetbike. There was little more embarrassing than a Saim-Hannian, who couldn't ride.
It was good to be back in the air again, as well as challenging, since they practised a wide arrange of manoeuvres and formations. The most enjoyable part however were the obstacle courses, which always demanded focus and fast reaction; the thrill they gave her made her heart race with delight, even though she was far from making the best time.
This evening however, a few days after visiting her father's lesson, she went to a place she hadn't frequented in quite some time. The Tower of Travellers; old friends had returned from the void. The lights on Saim-Hann had been dimmed to mimic the soft orange of a sunset, the ivory towers gleaming in the warm light. Yaidev walked across one of the long bridges, spanning the chasms between those tall constructs, about a hundred meters over a large dome, which was flanked by three towers, one of them that of the travellers.
Shuttles flew in and left it like busy bees, but most larger ships were hidden in the hundreds of hangers. Behind the tower Saim-Hann's solar sails and the gate into the webway loomed, but before entering, Yaidev looked across her shoulder. Saim-Hann was far from flat, instead myriads of towers with numerous spires and bridges like webs, soared above shimmering bio-domes of varying sizes, some of which spanned kilometres. Even from her position, Yaidev couldn't see to the tip of the continent-sized ship.
She loved seeing the craftworld from such an elevated position, but her friends were waiting.
Yaidev entered the tower, large enough to be considered a city in its own right, and took the first elevator she could find to a level above. She wandered across a market, still brimming with activity, and entered one of the slim streets, leading away from the crowd. The moment she'd turn around the corner music reached her ears, and lanterns of various colours illuminated her way.
She followed the flutes and drums to a tavern, and stepped in through a crimson curtain. There were many patrons this evening, in part because visitors often didn't dare venture deeper into Saim-Hann without a guide or a Saim-Hannian they knew, fearing to break some unspoken rule or offend a Wild Rider by accident. Personally Yaidev didn't believe that Saim-Hann was such a dangerous place, as her people knew that other eldar were unfamiliar with their customs and would act leniently in most cases.
Yaidev looked around and smiled when she spotted a familiar group in a corner of the tavern, seated around a low table. They had been served dishes of vegetables, fruits and spiced meats, along with baskets of bread and herbs. It was Nizerah who saw her first, the white hair of the Outcast shimmering in the colours of the differently coloured lanterns, one half currently blue and the other red.
She too smiled and waved the Bonesinger to them, and the other three turned around now as well. Immediately Yaidev recognized Lithandril with his blue-dyed hair, matching his eyes, Ronahn with the same white as Nizerah and an Outcast with auburn hair, which she hadn't seen last time, but she knew as Ethilanur.
Nizerah stood up and approached her younger friend, embracing her in a for eldar unusually intimate gesture. "Cera, Yaidev."
"Cera, Nizerah; it is good to see you all again." She replied, returning the gesture.
The Outcast let go and pointed at one of the free cushions between her seat and Ethilanur. "Come, sit with us. I see there is much to share."
Yaidev sat down and raised an eyebrow in confusion. "How can you tell, caraidis?"
Nizerah smiled almost slyly. "Just by the way you seem to carry yourself." She regarded the young eldar thoughtfully. "You appear more confident for once, and one can see in your eyes that you have seen tragedy and blood." Her smile vanished, exchanged for a touch of concern. "What has happened in these past years?"
Yaidev didn't answer immediately, and when she looked around saw that they all were gazing at her. She sighed. "Much has occurred and changed. It started not too long after your departure, when my aunt Shadira was challenged to an honour duel."
"I've heard of this custom." The one named Ronahn noted. "It is my understanding that they are usually battles to first blood to settle conflicts between clans."
The Stormrider nodded. "Essentially. It is an ancient custom most of our kin has abandoned, but we have preserved as part of our culture to prevent unnecessary bloodshed and death." Usually. "My aunt was accused to have failed repairs on another rider's Jetbike, even manipulated it, and as you may imagine, sabotaging a Wild Rider's most valued possession is considered a grave crime. Especially since it was during a battle.
I attended and as you've said, Ronahn, it was to be a fight to first blood." Her eyes wandered to the table, and to one of the glasses filled with red wine. "The first and only strike to hit Shadira severed her head from her shoulders."
Silence followed her words, and it didn't make her any more comfortable. This was not how she would have liked to begin this evening. When she looked at them again, she could see their compassion, and Nizerah placed a hand on the Saim-Hannian's arm, her grip very light, little more than a touch. "I'm sorry, Yaidev. To lose someone close to you by the hand of your own people."
From Ronahn came a snort of derision. "I had heard of the barbarism on this craftworld. This is simply disgusting."
"Ronahn, mind yourself." Ethilanur began, but was interrupted by the younger eldar.
"How could any eldar tolerate such action, the murder of our own kin? I would expect as much from the Druchii…"
"Hold your tongue, Ranger." Yaidev's eyes were narrowed with anger. That he would speak such insult! "How dare you make such allegation? What does a son of Ulthwé know about the Wild Riders? Our traditions are ancient and Shadira's death an unnecessary tragedy, but do not dare compare us those who have fallen." Her tone was cold and sharp as a blade, though she kept it down so no one but those at the table would hear her words.
The young Ranger fell silent, his expression first showing surprise at her outburst, than remorse, as he avoided her glare. The others showed little and remained silent. "My apologies, Baharothaís. I meant no insult; I simply did not consider my words." Perhaps it was for the best that visitors didn't venture alone into Saim-Hann.
Lithandril simply shook his head. "You must excuse young Ronahn; he's one to quickly speak his mind." He smiled. "Usually to criticise."
"Thank you, my friend." The youngest Ranger replied dryly, but then turned to Yaidev. "I was merely shocked to hear that an eldar would kill another; such a thing is unprecedented on Ulthwé."
Having learned to control her anger, Yaidev calmed down quickly, and accepted his apology with a nod, though the comparison to the dark eldar left a bitter taste. "It is a rare occurrence on Saim-Hann too; usually these duels end with minor cuts, maybe the loss of a finger and it has been more than a century since two clans actually fought one another in open battle. I believe the dwindling of our numbers could make us tamer with time, but traditions are not easily broken with."
"Of course." Nizerah said soothingly, flashing at Ronahn briefly, before she turned to Yaidev with a soft smile. "Now, if my eyes do not deceive me you have a mark behind your ear." With a few of her fingers she lifted a few of the crimson strands to reveal the black snake. "Has our poet taken to arms at long last?"
The former Biel-Tani knew of the meaning of Saim-Hannian tattoos, in part due to Yaidev. "Indeed and my parents thought much the same, though I should not be surprised. When my aunt died I was grief-stricken and filled with rage, which time could not allay. I wandered across Saim-Hann until I found myself in a temple of Khaine, where following a short assessment I was guided to a shrine by the Aspect Warriors." She looked to Nizerah. "From what I've heard you Biel-Tani walk the warrior's Path first."
The Outcast nodded. "Tis not without exceptions, but the desire to reclaim our lost place in this galaxy is as much part of our culture as the clans and their traditions are to Saim-Hann." She sighed and touched a scar that ran across her left cheek. "And so the young have great desire for battle and much hatred in their hearts that must be tempered and moulded by the Exarchs early on." When she regarded Yaidev, there was something quizzical in her gaze. "But why is your snake black?"
"I walked the Path of the Warrior as a Dark Reaper."
Nizerah chuckled amused to the Bonesinger's surprise, but the reason became quickly clear. "Death from afar?" The white-haired eldar asked with a grin. "The Ranger's way would suit you well."
Yaidev shook her head with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Only a few minutes have past and already you invite me. Do you never grow tired of my refusals?"
Her friend shrugged, still with a smile on her lips. "You were the one to approach me all those years ago, eager young poet that you were at the time. So many questions, so much curiosity. But you should now know more than ever that no answer or description compares to reality." The former Biel-Tani pointed out.
Yaidev sighed, remembering the beauty of the Exodite Worlds; she did want to visit them again. "This I cannot argue, caraidis, but I have no desire to interrupt my current occupation." She had begun only a few months ago and enjoyed her line of work, which always provided her with new challenges and allowed her a certain degree of creativity. How could she else but love it?
"And what Path holds you now in its grip?" Lithandril asked, refilling his glass with more wine.
"The Path of Shaping."
"A Bonesinger?" Ronahn inquired carefully. "I too walked that Path before the void called for me."
Ethilanur placed a hand on his shoulder. "And it has proven very useful to us." The Outcast noted with a smile, causing the younger Ranger to roll his grey eyes.
"Indeed; they love to keep me busy with repairing the ship or our equipment."
Yaidev chuckled and took a sip from her own glass, the wine sweet and refreshing. "So, how have you fared in all these years?" She asked as she put her drink aside, turning back to Nirezah, who was currently helping herself to pieces of pre-cut fruit.
"We've been disrupting an ork WAAAGH! by assassinating their leaders, ensuring that they would destroy one another. The remainder are now being engaged by the Cresistauead of the Imperium, but we left before we could get caught in the crossfire."
"They will likely praise their corpse-god for this victory." Lithandril noted derisively.
"Unless they manage to undo our work with their own incompetence."
The blue-haired eldar frowned at Ethilanur's words. "In any case, we will soon return there to see who prevailed, and assess if our interference will be necessary once more. Personally I hope our work is done."
"Why?"
Nirezah put her fork down. "We were fortunate, but other bands have lost fellow Outcasts in our endeavour to stop the orks." The smiles at the table had vanished. "Both they and the Cresistauead may be primitive, but they deadly enemies if you're not mindful."
No one disagreed with the former Biel-Tani and while she, Ethilanur and Ronahn shared an expression of sorrow, Lithandril showed anger as well. It was quiet for a while, no one ate or drank, while the music continued in the background. Yaidev wondered if they had personally known those who had fallen. Or at least some of them.
Eventually the auburn haired Ranger shook his head. "Let us not talk about death; it is the first time we've set foot on a craftworld in a decade, and I do not wish to waste this evening with dreadful thoughts."
"Ethilanur is right." Lithandril agreed, looking at his fellow Outcasts, the anger in his expression vanishing. "Mourning will not return our brothers and sisters to us, and their souls now rest secure within the Infinity Circuits of their craftworlds. No, we should enjoy our stay before we return to the merciless void."
Ethilanur frowned. "You almost make it sound as if our travels are dreadful." He noted. "Unless we've travelled on different ships I'm going to have to disagree with you. Or are you still sulking about that snowball on Belenash?"
"Snowball?" Yaidev had heard that in some domes on Saim-Hann winter conditions were occasionally created to further simulate the changing of seasons, but she herself couldn't remember having ever seen or touched snow. Perhaps she should change that once she had the chance.
The Ranger shrugged. "It was winter in the area we visited on that particular world and I dared to involve Lithandril into a bit of fun."
Lithandril folded his arms in front of his chest. "I didn't mind your game, though I indeed never asked to be included."
"Then I guess you only minded loosing."
Nizerah shook her head. "You see know why I insist you join us." She whispered to Yaidev with a grin. "I'm all alone out there with them."
"My heartfelt sympathies." The Saim-Hannian replied sarcastically with a chuckled, placing a hand on her heart. "I can hardly imagine your suffering."
The rest of the night was filled with light-hearted stories and much laughter, and even Lithandril learned to smile again.
A few cycles after her meeting with the Outcasts, Yaidev was walking home after a long day of practise, taking her usual route through a park. She'd been in a good mood all day, as the simple constructs she'd created were all without weak spots for the first time. For example, previously legs of tables had collapsed, or had broken once anything of a greater weight than a cup had been placed upon them.
Now the next step would be ornamentation. Thankfully she'd mastered colours, at least the basic ones, weeks ago, though nuances still proved a significant challenge. Sometimes it just seemed that the wraithbone had a mind of its own.
She walked along the paved paths, and let her gaze wander, taking in the colours of flowers and the soft scents, which were distributed by the artificial wind. A few botanists were tending to the trees and shrubs, removing sickly looking leaves and cutting branches. Half a dozen were apparently working in this section of the dome, none paying mind to the eldar passing by.
About halfway through, she reached a small, ivory bridge across one of the many rivers, roofed by golden-leafed weeping willows. One of the botanists was next to it at one of the trees, apparently working on the branches, ensuring they would not block the way. As she was about to walk past him, Yaidev briefly looked at the other eldar. And stopped.
"Ilthaldir?"
The brown-haired eldar turned around and to her delight, his familiar violet eyes brightened. "Yaidev?" He immediately let go of the branch he'd been holding, and in a friendly gesture he placed a hand on her shoulder, a delighted smile, which she mirrored, on his lips. "It has been far too long. How have you been my friend?"
It had indeed been months since her departure from the Dark Reapers, almost a year. And it seemed Ilthaldir was at least as merry as a civilian as he'd been as a warrior. It was wonderful to see him again. They had lived, trained and fought together for years, even slept in the same room for all that time; as Aspect Warriors they had not cared for each other's gender, there at been no risk of temptations, not while Khaine's rage had burned within them. "Much has happened since my departure. I'm sorry I did not say my farewell in person."
He shook his head. "You need not apologize. It is rare for a warrior to say his goodbyes to his brothers and sisters in arms; the Exarchs tend to separate those ready to move on before they themselves are truly aware of it."
"How did you come to leave the Path of the Warrior?" Yaidev asked, as he finally let go of her shoulderagain. "If you don't mind me asking, of course."
His smiled stayed, if not as wide. "I don't, but I'm afraid I'm not certain of the reasons myself." He confessed. "Perhaps because of our last battle, maybe Felanwé's fate or the changes within the Singing Scythe. Perhaps all three. Or maybe it was simply my time."
Yaidev frowned confused. "Changes? Of what do you speak?"
Her friend sighed. "Maldorahn left the shrine before I did, maybe a cycle or two after you. He's now the Exarch of the Thundering Strom."
She covered her mouth with a hand, eyes widened. "He's lost upon the Path?" Ilthaldir nodded saddened. "Now I regret even more not having said goodbye to you both." Maldorahn was gone; now he was only a part of the Exarch he'd become, no longer an individual. It was a fate that terrified her, and her heart filled with sorrow for her friend.
This time Ilthaldir gentle touched her arm in a reassuring gesture. "Do not plague yourself with such thoughts. It is done and cannot be changed." He smiled kindly, trying to lift her mood. "Besides, at least we have found each other again."
Yaidev lowered her hand from her lips and managed to smile. "And I'm glad that we have." She told him truthfully, before she examined his new clothes, all in shades of brown and green, pants tugged into his boots so they wouldn't get caught in the vegetation. "What is the name of the Path you now walk?"
"It's called the Path of Cultivation or the Horticulturist, whichever you prefer. I'm currently being taught by the botanists of the Emerald Halls." The Emerald Halls were the collective term the Saim-Hannians used for the domes housing the vast gardens and plantation which fed the craftworld's populations and ensured the air-quality to a degree. They were one of the most essential areas of their home. "I suppose after having focused on the art of destruction for a little over a century, I needed a more tranquil line of work, now that my anger has no hold on me any longer; giving life, instead of taking it." He looked around the garden with a serene expression. He looked at peace and she was happy for him. "What of you?"
"I found myself called to the Path of Shaping, and am currently tutored by a Bonesinger; Halandur of the Windserpents." Yaidev told him and he turned back to her.
Ilthaldir seemed understandably surprised. "From your clothes I thought you belonged to another clan; is that not the crest of the Stormriders?" He pointed at the snakes on her crimson sleeve.
She smiled. "It is, but I was guided to the shop of a Windserpent nonetheless, and he welcomed me as his student."
He chuckled softly. "It seems we both were driven by similar motivations." His expression then turned thoughtful. "If you are of the Stormriders, do I assume correctly that you are nionis an-Thalduin?"
Yaidev sighted; she'd heard this question so many times already. "I am." She replied unenthusiastically.
To her surprise he briefly bowed, an almost teasing smile on his lips as he straightened up again. "Nobility. I hope you bear no grudge for injuring you in training."
The young eldar chuckled, delighted by his reaction and humour; he was not taking this as seriously as she had feared. "Of course not. And you needn't worry about consequences; back then I was but your sister in arms. And even now I am Yaidev still." She didn't feel changed, merely more experienced, matured.
"I'm greatly relieved." He replied with his smile remaining, turning ever so slightly mischievous. "Little sister."
Her look of surprise returned. Few treated her casually with the exception of the Outcasts, Derahnim or Elowyn, and the latter had only begun once Yaidev had insisted. She liked it that way; no unwanted additional expectations or judgment, no feigned or empty politeness because of her rank. It simply felt good.
In return she mockingly raised an eyebrow. "Now then, 'brother'; from what clan do you hail?"
"Blades of Azure." Thankfully a clan the Stormriders were not in conflict with, but it had a certain reputation.
"The home of our most acclaimed Seers?"
His smile turned somewhat crooked. "Indeed. The majority of us find ourselves on the Seer's Path at some point in our lives, even quite a number of my own family. You may have heard of the Farseer Methran'el?"
"Of course; he's part of the Seer Council." It made him one of Saim-Hann's most important political figures, aside from the other Council members and Autarchs, as their authority extended over all clans. To a certain degree.
"And my grandfather." He almost seemed as unenthusiastic as her, when she spoke of her rank.
As a result Yaidev gave him a sympathetic smile. "It would appear we both have relatives in high places." Perhaps that was why he behaved more casual around her than most.
"A burden more than a blessing sometimes." Ilthaldir pointed out, and Yaidev found that she couldn't disagree. "Whenever the Farseers of the Council had a gathering there are always some members of other clans, who act rather hostile towards me and my family afterwards." He sighed. "My grandfather is a rather direct and honest eldar, very stubborn at times, which is not always appreciated."
"I can imagine." Suddenly she realized something; he was technically still working. "I hope I'm not distracting you too much."
To her relief he laughed. "Fear not; those of my Path are all calm in spirit, and no one will mind a few minutes of conversation. Unless of course you need to be elsewhere."
"I'm indeed expected, but I'm in no hurry. Still, we should meet again some other time and speak more."
He nodded. "I would love to, caraidis." Yaidev beamed at his words. "Have you something in mind or should I contact you another time?"
She thought about it for a moment. "Actually, a friend of mind is playing in a concert in two days. She and her fellow musicians are Windserpents, but I was invited and she insisted I could bring whomever I wish." Frankly Yaidev didn't want to go alone; Elowyn had invited another friend of hers, someone the Stormrider didn't know and Derahnim had declined. He was uncomfortable with such events, which were almost exclusive to a single clan. The poet preferred smaller gatherings.
"A concert?" The idea seemed to please Ilthaldir. "I haven't attended any sort of performance since my changing of the Path. I would be delighted to join you."
Yaidev turned up a little later than she'd intended, most eldar having already arrived in the theatre. They'd gathered in small groups, conversing in hushed tones with one another, as the area amplified every noise. The stage was a simple circular space at the foot of a hill, which surrounded the platform like a crescent. The audience was seated on straightened spaces like broad steps along the slope, with low tables and seat cushions.
Yaidev descended a lawn-covered staircase, the hem of her crimson robes brushing the green grass. She hadn't visited a theatre like this in a long time, and never to see the performance of another clan's artists; Elowyn however had insisted.
Every other eldar here seemed to be of the Windserpents, their crests visible on hems and collars. Naturally Yaidev had declined any such ornamentation. While their clans were on peaceful terms, some would see this as an intrusion. Of course Yaidev's apprenticeship was well known among them by now, but the young eldar didn't desire any attention.
At the foot of the hill the Stormrider spotted her friend, currently conversing with another eldar. He wore his blonde hair open, garbed in clothes of sky blue, grey pants tucked into black boots.
As she descended the final stairs to join the pair, Elowyn turned to her with a friendly smile. "Yaidev, I'm glad you came."
"I could not have declined such an invitation." She replied, returning the smile. "Especially after you piqued my curiosity ever since I've started my studies under your father's tutelage."
"I'm surprised to see you alone. Didn't you say you would be bringing a friend?" Elowyn looked around, as if hoping to find Ilthaldir despite not having seen him before.
"He's meeting me here; his workday is sadly a little longer than ours, and he feared not to make it in time."
The other eldar meanwhile had turned around as well, and Elowyn just remembered that they had not met before either. "May I introduce an old friend of mine and fellow rider?"
"And rival to a degree." He noted. "Talranis, rider for the Birds of Kurnous." It seemed Elowyn fortunately cared little for clans when it came to her friends.
Yaidev inclined her head respectfully, more a nod than a bow. "It's always a pleasure to meet a friend of Elowyn's."
"The pleasure is mine, Yaidev nionis an-Thalduin." He responded, mirroring her gesture, though dipping his head deeper due to her rank. "I've heard you've recently ascended; may we expect to see you in the races as well? The next will be in a few weeks." He was of course referring to her completion of the coming-of-age ritual, a necessary credential for participation.
She shook her head. "I fear not. While I can handle myself quite well on a Jetbike, I do not believe my skills are sufficient to partake."
"Modesty is a rare quality." He noted, an eyebrow raised. "You ought to be careful; some might see it as a weakness."
Such was a lesson she'd heard multiple times and she didn't quite like what Talranis was implying. "Do you, rider?" She asked coolly.
"It depends on the person displaying it and of course when." He smiled. "In this case I think you are merely truthful, which I greatly appreciate. Too often have I seen those of noble blood praise themselves, only to see them fail, when true skill was required."
"Those of us once chosen to follow Maugan Ra tend to be more sober." Another voice from the stairs pointed out. Yaidev turned around, and to her delight saw Ilthaldir, who as usual seemed to be in a good mood. "Forgive my delay, but the gardens need extensive tending during this time of year."
"Ilthaldir; I'm glad you could join us."
He wasn't in his botanist robes anymore, though still favoured shades of green for his clothing. "I'm grateful for the invitation." He replied and turned to the other female. "Elowyn, I presume."
Ilthaldir bowed his head, a little deeper than necessary and the musician smiled at him. "You assume correctly. I thank you for attending; I hope I will not disappoint."
"You shouldn't worry about that." The former Reaper assured her. "I'm sure it will be a wonderful performance."
"Speaking of which." Talranis interrupted, pointed at something near the stage. "Your fellow musicians are apparently making their final preparations."
Quickly Elowyn turned around at his words. "Oh, I think I should join them. I'll see you after the concert."
As their friend descended the last stairs to the stage, Yaidev looked around and saw that the audience was getting seated, most conversations coming to a stop. She took a cushion between Ilthaldir and Talranis, leaning against curved backrest that perfectly fitting her body. The seemingly wooden construction as a whole was 'L' shaped, the other half hidden beneath her seat, preventing it from tipping over.
It became quieter and the musicians took their places on the stage, checking their instruments one last time. They all were dressed in robes of yellow and orange, warm and welcoming shades that were preferred by many performers on Saim-Hann. Two played long flutes, similar in design to the instrument used by the Bonesingers and five a zither-like instrument.
They were slightly vaulted boards with more than a dozen strings running across the surface. Each string was elevated by something that looked like a vertebra and having seen Elowyn practise, Yaidev knew that their positions along the board influenced the sound of the strings. Two of these instruments had distinctly thicker strings than the other three, likely to create deeper tones and stood at the sides, while the other three formed the centre.
And at last there was a set of various sized drums between the two flute-players, the musician sitting down to play them, just like those at the zithers.
Until now the branches of two trees, which were flanking the stage, had thrown their shadows across the stage, but then light stones placed at their roots came to life. They bathed trunks and stage in soft light, while those above, of the small dome itself seemed to grow darker. Yaidev saw Elowyn at one of the zithers, green eyes closed as she waited. Was she nervous? Was she trying to block out the audience or merely gathering her thoughts?
Yaidev dismissed these musings, as the flutes started with a soft tune. The musicians at the zithers placed the fingers of their right hand on a few of the around fifteen strings, pressing them down like on a guitar or violin. The fingers of their left hand began to pluck at the strings and their instruments began to sing.
The drums remained in the background, as if they were the heartbeat of the song itself, or a dancer moving to the melody. It had begun quietly with the flutes like voices of birds on the break of day, waking the zithers, which started softly, but then became more vivid.
Yaidev watched Elowyn, her right fingers pressing down strings in quick succession, her left dancing so swiftly that the Stormrider wasn't even sure she'd time to pluck any strings at all. The joyful song soon developed a brisk pace, and Yaidev felt her heartbeat adjusting to the rhythm, finding herself smiling as well.
The zithers creating the deeper tones remained in the background, similar to the drums and along with the flutes underlined the themes. Certain parts were repeated throughout the composition, giving it structure. Sometimes the music would turn into a soft whisper like a warm summer wind, only to crescendo vivaciously moments later.
At some point Yaidev had closed her eyes, focusing more and more on the music, letting it paint a picture in her mind. There was no room for any other thoughts or sensation, only the spirited music her friend helped composing.
She saw shapes of various colours dancing, each note creating something new. In quieter moments lines swayed before her closed eyes like rivers through a landscape, while during swifter parts, diamond patters frolicked around like leaves in the wind, shimmering, dancing. And there were countless more.
Briefly Yaidev wondered if her training as a Bonesinger was affecting her mental images, though she quickly realized that it wasn't the right question. No, the true one should be, how much?
No matter. This was simply beautiful, and she allowed herself to indulge the warm sense of happiness that was spreading through her as she listened. Despite the swift pace, Yaidev found herself quite relaxed, as if all her pondering, all her worrying she'd been through throughout her life was simply swiped away, her mind and spirit clean, pure, for this wonderful hour of song. As if there was no darkness left in this existence.
And then the music crescendoed for one last time, all instruments building up the final moments. Yaidev felt herself taking a deep breath, holding it. And like a wave it washed over them, a firework of tones, brief but powerful and stirring.
It ended with the thundering of drums and then the zithers were silenced. Like at the beginning only the flutes remained and grew softer until they too had faded.
There was a second or two of absolute silence. Then the theatre was filled with applause. Only now did Yaidev open her eyes again, and looking around she saw a few smiles, but most showed little to no emotions at all. It wasn't surprising, and no one needed them to know the audience's thoughts. The volume and rhythm of the clapping told everything. They'd loved it.
The musicians stepped to the front of the stage and bowed to their audience. When they straightened up, the light stones of the dome brightened, while those at the trees dimmed and went out, allowing the branches to cast their shadows across the stage again. The performers retreated into the newly created twilight to collect their instruments, while the applause slowly faded.
Only when the last eldar had stopped clapping was the concert truly over, only then did the first rose from their seats. A few moments later the first conversations started in hushed voices as not to disturb others. Ilthaldir, Talranis and Yaidev remained seated, waiting for Elowyn, who was putting her large instrument into a casket, speaking with her fellow musicians. She, like the other performers, seemed joyous, pleased with the results of their labour. In Yaidev's mind they had earned the thunderous applause in the end, her own palms still warm and a little flushed.
Talranis, who had watched their friend for a moment as well, now turned to the Stormrider, apparently seeking to pass the time with conversation. Yaidev didn't mind the idea; it would be a good chance to get to know him better. "As the daughter of Thaldiun Baharothaí, may I ask you something?"
The young Bonesinger sighed. "My relations seems to be the first thing everyone learns about me." Was it really the only thing people seemed to know or find interesting about her? Or did they simply deem it a good conversation starter? Both would be disappointing.
Thankfully he seemed to pick up on her displeasure. "Apologies; I was merely reminded of a discussion I had the other day." He briefly bit his lower lip, as if he was arguing with himself if he should continue. In the end he spoke his mind. "I've heard the Stormriders have been among the most vocal to criticise Autarch Zephyrblade."
Yaidev knew that the Birds of Kurnous had been on friendly terms with the Zephyrblades for a long time. Many thought that if they hadn't partaken in the battle of Nal'shadar, they would have joined the Autarch against the humans. Much of that however was mere speculation, by those whoe were not members of the clan themselves. In any case, Yaidev answered honestly, aware that she needed to step carefully. Not one wrong word, especially with the Council meeting in a few days. "My father has no love for the Cresistauead, but he despises our fallen kin even more; the alliance between Zephyrblade and the Kabal was unacceptable to him."
Slowly Talranis nodded, not looking at the Stormrider as he considered her words. "The alliance was rather…distasteful." He admitted.
Ilthaldir frowned. "Distasteful?" He repeated, as if it had been a bad joke. "We pride ourselves to be honourable, fearless warriors, among the first to discard the depraved lifestyle of our ancestors. We maybe more battle-hungry than many of our brethren, but when did we sink so low as to willingly, voluntarily associate with those who embrace all we despise?" His words reminded Yaidev of those her mother and father had spoken, when they had first discussed the matter. It seemed to be one of two prevailing opinions.
The other eldar's eyes glared coolly at the botanist. "Others have made alliances with them in the past."
Yaidev former brother in arms shrugged. "Out of desperation or because the dark eldar invited themselves to the battle; to my knowledge at least." He leaned forward, an arm placed on the table, as if he didn't want to be overheard by anyone else, while the audience left the theatre. "Do you approve of Zephyrblade's actions?"
Talranis thought about his answer. "I think his actions, for the most part, were justified. Gnosis Prime was once our world, and we cannot let the insults of such a lowly race simply slide." He leaned back and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Let them hate us that will never change no matter our actions, but they should at least respect and fear us."
Ilthaldir gave him something that suspiciously sounded like a snort of derision. "Respect us for slaughtering their unarmed civilians?" He shook his head with a mocking smile. "Indeed; we have taken the swift blade to weed, cut them down like young haulms. Truly we have proven our skill and prowess." His violet eyes narrowed suddenly, his voice becoming lower. "Then we left them to the butchers of Commoragh and Eliac ran from the Lossainnes."
For the first time Talranis actually seemed angered, and Yaidev grew uncomfortable with the turn this conversation was taking. Not here, not today. She had to do something. "You mistake strategy and a clear mind for cowardice." The Bird of Kurnous pointed out. "The Autarch would have been slain by the Astartes had he not escaped."
"And so his campaign ended without gain for Saim-Hann." Ilthaldir reminded him in return. "Her halls are now emptier, and we have nothing but blood on our hands and souls added to the Infinity Circuit. The dark eldar gained more than we did." That was very possible true, and even Talranis hesitated before he gave his reply.
Anger had left his voice, but he still seemed disgruntled. "And had he not fled in the end there would be even more dead to mourn." He told the botanist. "I agree that his campaign was a failure, but he was justified nonetheless."
"Well, he has made long speeches to convince us of just that; I've heard one of them, when I had left the shrine of the Singing Scythe for a walk. If you asked me he also tried to make up for his absence from the battle of Nal'shadar, before it could hurt his standing among the clans."
Slaying for one's repute; it seemed awfully primitive to Yaidev. "Many fear their reputation, few their conscience; sadly something that applies to many of the Autarchs and chiefs." She noted darkly, looking at the table rather than the two eldar she was with.
"And what is your position on this matter, nionis an-Thalduin?" Talranis' voice was cool, probably sensing that she personally was on Ilthaldir's side.
Yaidev briefly hesitated. Careful now. "I'm afraid I cannot provide you with an answer; whatever I say could be taken as the views of my clan or even my father. I've said what I dare." Talranis frowned, obviously unsatisfied with her answer, but thankfully didn't press her and she continued. "In any case, it seems the two of you agree that the results were…regrettable, even a tragedy. Whether justified or not we should heed this as a lesson to prevent any revisions."
At first none spoke. Talranis was regarding Yaidev with a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps we should repay the Mon'Keigh. Even the Lossainnes will not stand against the strength of a few untied clans." It didn't sound to her as if he truly meant what he said. Somehow it sounded like a challenge. Was he just trying to find out more about her?
Ilthaldir either didn't notice this or ignored it and was quick with a reply. "For revenge's sake alone you would sacrifice more of our kin needlessly?" He shook his head. "We've already bled too much in recent years."
Talranis sighed. "The humans now seek revenge as well; I would not be surprised if they were looking for our craftworld." Challengingly he looked at Ilthaldir. "It could proof wise to engage them at another location, lure them away from us, or provide them with another enemy to fight."
Somehow Yaidev had the feeling she would hear much of this at the Council meeting in a few days. But tonight the argument bothered her, and Yaidev looked about, hoping for a way out. Perhaps if Elowyn returned the two would forget about the humans. It was her evening after all, and the Stormrider didn't want to see it ruined by a political discussion. Yes, if possible she should put a stop to this before Elowyn returned.
Yaidev looked around, trying to think of something to distract the other two, when she spotted a familiar face in the audience. The healer; he was walking up the stairs, clearly taking his time to avoid the crowd and Yaidev left her seat, Ilthaldir and Talranis too occupied to question her.
Swiftly she went up the staircase dividing the rows, and placed a hand on the eldar's shoulder. "Greetings Naverhan." He turned around and was obviously surprised to see her. "Would you mind saving me once more?"
"Milady?" He bowed his head respectfully. "I didn't expect to meet you here."
She smiled kindly, but shook her head. "Please, you mustn't address me as such, especially not here."
Naverhan seemed momentarily confused. "As you wish. May I ask what you need saving from?"
Yaidev turned partially and looked back to the table. "A friend and a new acquaintance of mine have started, well, let us describe it as a little discussion. I'd rather not get too involved."
"My sympathies, Bonesinger." The healer gave her a compassionate smile. "What are they so 'passionately' discussing?"
"The latest campaign of the Autarch Zepyhrblade."
He nodded knowingly. "Ah, a heated topic indeed. I would not count on this argument ending tonight."
Yaidev chuckled, though without real joy, feeling something between amusement thanks to his statement and annoyance because of the situation. "I fear much the same. I'm sure this was not what my friend had in mind when inviting us all."
"I take it is Elowyn of whom you speak. It is her father who trains you I believe."
She nodded and turned back to him. "Yes, we've spent much time together and she's supervised many of my lessons as well. I hope this won't ruin her night, not after her exquisite performance."
"Then perhaps we should appease our two debaters."
"I've tried to no avail."
He smiled encouragingly at her. "Perhaps two can speak louder than one."
One of her eyebrows rose. "Or maybe a new face is distraction enough; a change of topic could suffice." Yaidev suggested.
He considered this for a moment. "And of what should I speak with them?"
She pointed at Ilthaldir. "The one with brown hair was a fellow Dark Reaper, when you tended to my wounds. I think you've tended to him once as well."
"Likely." Naverhan said, fingers grasping his chin as he tried to remember. "You think that will be enough to distract them?"
"It must only be for or a moment and by then I hope Elowyn has returned, and we will be too occupied praising her performance." Yaidev assured him, convincing herself as well.
This time Naverhan chuckled, though different from her, he seemed to be actually amused. "Well, I didn't have any other plans for tonight anyway."
Yaidev allowed herself to sigh in relief and lead him to the table, where the other two were still caught up in their argument. Feeling even a little more annoyed by being continually ignored, Yaidev made a point of speaking loudly, while standing just behind her friend. "Ilthaldir, do you remember Naverhan of the House of Healing. He tended to our injuries after Nal'shadar."
The discussion stopped abruptly and Ilthaldir turned his head to look at both Yaidev, who now took her seat again, and Naverhan, who took one of the empty cushions next to the botanist. Ilthaldir regarded the healer for a moment, clearly having been taken by surprise, before he smiled welcoming. "Ah, so you were the healer. Apologies, but I saw a many faces that day. My gratitude nonetheless for your services."
Naverhan chuckled and gave a grateful nod. "You are most welcome. I also tended to lady…I mean Yaidev, following the battle of Avenio and we met again, when she began her studies with Bonesinger Halandur." Even Talranis, who had looked bemused and quite displeased by the sudden change of topic, now looked a little more interested. Yaidev on the other hand was quite satisfied with the result, and thankful that it had worked. For the moment.
"It must be strange to meet former Aspect Warriors again after they've left the Path." Aspect Warriors inspired fear and respect, most avoiding contact when they could; even after having walked that Pathherself, Yaidev still disliked their company.
"It is indeed rather peculiar." Naverhan admitted. "There is not a change in personality, not that I have noticed, but one in behaviour, in bearing. In any case, as a healer I'm always glad to see former patients healthy and well."
"Fruits of your labour." Ilthaldir pointed out.
It was then the Bird of Kurnous interrupted the new conversation. "Elowyn!" Finally from behind the stage the musician reappeared and ran across the lawn up the hill to meet them, ignoring the stairs. Her hands even needed to hold up the hem of her robe so she wouldn't trip. "A marvellous concert, without fault." Talranis congratulated her, the first to be on his feet to meet her.
"I wish Yaidev had told me of you sooner." Ilthaldir exclaimed. "A wonderful experience to say the least and filled with such emotion. You have a beautiful gift."
Elowyn bowed to them both, actually blushing a little, her light brown hair falling over her shoulders. "Your words are too kind, Ilthaldir. I hope I'll prove worthy of your praise in the future as well."
"I have no doubt, Elowyn."
"And neither do I." Yaidev noted with a smile. "I've seen you practise and work on your art; I'd be a fool to deny your talent."
Her friend chuckled. "If I didn't know you any better I could almost believe you only say these things because you're my friend, who I happen to help teach."
Yaidev winked. "Then it is fortunate you know me better."
"And as someone, who did not have the pleasure yet, let me assure you that they are not exaggerating." The healer assured her and only now did Elowyn seem to notice him.
"I'm sorry; I should have paid attention to you earlier." The musician apologized. "I thank you for your praise, but I don't believe we have met."
Naverhan didn't appear to be offended and shook his head. "No, honoured musician, we haven't." He simply told her. "I'm but a healer, and I've met both Yaidev and Ilthaldir back when they were Aspect Warriors. My name is Naverhan."
Yaidev felt the need to add to his explanation. "I had him join our little conversation as we waited, if that is alright."
Elowyn nodded. "Of course; the more the merrier." Her smile disappeared and she pointed at Ilthaldir and Talranis. "However I've seen that you argued about something and I'm glad to see you've put it aside." She turned to the botanist, while placing a hand on other eldar's shoulder. "And whatever it was about, I do hope you didn't take Talranis too seriously; he enjoys provoking others as much as listening to his own voice."
Said eldar folded his arms once more an eyebrow raised. "And I hope this is not how you tend to introduce me, caraidis."
Elowyn chuckled, squeezing his shoulder a little now. "Fear not, sometimes I find kinder words."
As the two started their own separate conversation, Yaidev saw that Ilthaldir gaze lingered on the musician in a particular way. It was actually quite amusing, but nonetheless Yaidev nudged him with an elbow. "You are staring." She whispered.
"Are you jealous?" Ilthaldir teased her with a smile, his voiced hushed as well.
"Oh, I'm sorry to disappoint." She mocked in return sarcastically. "But no, I'm actually not. After all with all what has happened in our time has Reapers, you are just as much my brother as you are a friend. You yourself called me 'little sister' in the gardens." She reminded him.
"I did indeed." He frowned. "Then why nudge me?"
"Because no one appreciates being stared at and it might not be the best first impression." Yaidev pointed out. She knew she wouldn't like it.
The healer joined in as well. "I believe the argument didn't particularly help either."
"I would call it a discussion." Ilthaldir was quick to defend himself.
Naverhan did not seem convinced. "In any case, the concert of a friend may not have been the ideal place for it."
The botanist sighed. "I concede." He admitted, lifting his hands defensively. "Perhaps we should visit a more suitable establishment, somewhere where we can quench our thirst as well."
Yaidev chuckled, but agreed. "A wise idea; perhaps then I actually get to introduce you two properly." Suddenly her thoughts turned Derahnim; a small gathering was more to his liking than a concert. "Maybe I can even get another to join us."
Eldar Language:
Truathas an-J'Ishar = Mercy of our Mother (based on Gaelic and Eldar)
Ishar = Mother (Eldar)
Ràtra'im Farturas = Keeper of Arms (based on Gaelic)
Ràtra'im = Keeper/Preserver (based on Gaelic)
Cera = Hello/Greetings (Eldar)
Caraidis = (a female) Friend (based on Gaelic)
Druchii = Dark Eldar (Eldar)
Cresistauead = Human (Eldar)
Lossainnes (pl.)= Astartes (Eldar)
Tattoos
Since Games Workshop has never described Saim-Hannian tattoos, I'll go with a mixture of Celtic and designs from various Polynesian cultures in the south pacific, like the Maori. Somehow it just seemed to fit this particular craftworld.
Familiar Faces:
Of course we remember Ilthaldir, but Talranis too already had an appearance. Not in this story, but in one of my first called "Hunted"a couple of years back, in which he was an Aspect Warrior, a Shining Spear. Elowyn and Naverhan too appeared in that story, set when Yaidev is already a Pathfinder. It was actually when I wrote "Hunted" that I got the idea to tell Yaidev's development and thus start "Pathfinder". Suppose it wouldn't hurt to re-edit that story one of these days, but thats for another time.
Yaidev is actually one of the first OCs I've ever created and thus was already a few years old when I started with "Hunted" in 2012. Funny thing is, when I went into the second "Hobbit"-movie a year later I suddenly saw another red-haired eldar, who behaved similarly to how I pictured my OC. Not saying Tauriel is exactly like Yaidev is/is going to be, but it kinda felt surprisingly close nonetheless for an unrelated work, and I couldn't shake that impression throughout the movie. Still; no unnecessary love-triangle is planned in this story, so there is that.