A noble Household currently located in Ishgard under the leadership of Vahalia Cress with strong Ishgardian and Dalmascan bloodlines. FFXIV - Balmung - Crystal DCEst. 2019 - Independent of like bynames
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Beautiful Libraries:
The Long Room, Trinity College Dublin, Ireland.
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The stone floor of a church in Brittany, France comes alive with color as morning sun filters through stained glass. photo: Jim Richardson
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⸸ Chrónos ⸸
Time felt different, wading through one day to the next, where hours felt like they had been constantly bleeding away from her. The silence she held was foreign, even more so the inner thoughts she had not spoken about -- holding herself in an endless cycle of what was reality and what was illusion since her arrival from Dalmasca.
The endless nights with Aradia which she had wondered how much time she had missed out on with the infant daughter, she couldn’t properly recall the days that had passed while she and Hakan had been in Dalmasca; in a deep tomb buried within the earth – sadly the very roots of which Aradia would have drawn her first breaths.
The period she had not seen the twins and their departure for Coerthas, a week before Hakan and Vahalia had arrived back on the Shikari Airship. Nausea often claimed her in the evenings when her mind wandered to Idalia and Evran, fearing they might not have remembered her face. Lethargy grasped at every thread of her being, fraying it as the days wore on, only for the pure sake of fairness and selflessness.
A recent quality her children took from her, something she gave freely and happily on behalf of shared time with their other father, but one Hakan had wished her to abandon entirely. Having her swear not to go another monumental day without their presence.
She had not seen them on their Name Day, which had passed weeks prior, nor on the day in which mothers were to be celebrated.
Time…
How strange it so quickly and easily slipped by without a correction to regain.
It was something Vahalia had been cognizant of, knowing just how fleeting life could be and the time that comes with it, aging everything around it. It was simply a borrowed construct.
Golden eyes watched the misty road as the fog rolled effortlessly along the cobble and gravel, veiling much of the island in the cloud smoke of haze that blotted out the horizon beyond. When the sound of the wooden wheels of the carriage carried along the pathway, the Matriarch finally offered up little Aradia into Marion’s care.
With a strong stride of the chocobos and the firm halt tuggings on their reins, Vahalia felt her heart thumping wildly within her chest and the swell of a choke caught in the center of her throat. When the door had finally opened, Colette stepped out and carefully bent within the carriage entrance to pluck the two toddlers out of the inner sanctum and help them down the stairs.
Each carefully dressed and well cared for – even with the fog, Vahalia could see their plump cheeks and velvet brocade. Evran, the little gentleman with his hair combed with care, and Idalia with her dark ringlets tied back with a silver ribbon.
Finally, Vahalia exhaled, finding her breath and before she let the brim within her eyes blot out her vision entirely, she took two hurried steps forward and fell to her knees to greet her two children, who squealed with delight, muttering soft praises and ‘Mama!’ as she approached.
To feel one’s heart crumble from joy – this was her prison, but she welcomed it wholly as she engulfed the twins in firm hugs and endless kisses to their foreheads.
“I missed you both.” her voice nearly trembled and she pulled away from the embrace long enough to look at them. It was as if time had not passed for them, they were still quite chipper and joyous as they had always been albeit slightly taller and more stable on their legs since she had last laid eyes on them in Dalmasca before setting out with Hakan and leaving them in Bruce and Colette’s care during their extended visit.
Her hands lifted to their cheeks to feel their smiles under thumb, “I missed you both terribly,” she admitted, “Did you both have fun with Papa?” she hummed, looking at them when they nodded and began to go into a string of words and excited explanations. When Colette approached with the fox and wolf plush animals within her arms, she smiled.
“They were well behaved My Lady. I believe they’ve enjoyed their time quite thoroughly.” Colette smiled down to the twins and then catching a glimpse of Marion and the newest addition, “Ah! Seems we have missed much.”
Marion and Colette stood chatting in low whispers as Colette took her time to appraise the littlest Lady of the household.
It had been many weeks since Vahalia had seen Evran and Idalia and of course, there would be much to make up for – such as missing their Name Day as well as introducing them to their new sibling, “Come, mes chéris, I have a bit of a surprise for you both.”
“Surprise mama?”
“Mm!” Vahalia smiled, looking down at Evran as she took each of their hands to lead them towards the Keep, “You’ll also get to sleep in your own beds this evening.”
“And read book?” Idalia asked.
“Many. And many more after that.” Vahalia confirmed as the three, Marion, Colette, and baby Aradia, made their way inside to catch up. The family was together once again, albeit slightly bigger.
Mention(s): @belgravexiv
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⸸ Eclipse ⸸
Sand coursed through the large hourglass within the titan’s grasp, a magnificent structure to behold if only she could sit and inspect each grain, having the time to feel the stone structure itself, touched by time but just as equally forgotten. It made her wonder how ancient the ruins or tomb had been, how many years had it been since someone stumbled upon it or looted its treasures.
None of which seemed to pique the interest of the sable-haired woman; instead, it was the make of the structure itself and what mysteries it had been privy to. How many people passed through the gates only to never return? How much time had passed since the mouth of the space had been abandoned? Who made it?
A buzz in her ear caught her attention and just over the sandy dunes behind her, she could sense a presence but no figure to accompany it. This, all of it felt familiar – dangerous. She was no stranger to the lure and pall around her, the skies above were dark, though short-lived lived when a sharp pain found her temple, causing her to instinctively grab for her head.
A myriad of images passed under her eyelids, static and choppy, a flutter of visions and voices. Unknown to her, the sands in the hourglass shifted and spun, turning viciously and reversing from their fallen state, like time had been rewinding through a series of images.
A barrage of sand hit her, prickling her skin and a vortex of darkness caught the ground in a violent shake. Entrenched within the whorl of darkness she caught glimpses of a crown, radiant rays of sun, sigils that glowed embedded into stone and a set of bright eyes that burned with the fury of the sun. Deep within the gaze she knew that stare but it was far beyond her reach to properly place it.
When the sound of water found her ears, she looked down past the shield of her arms to watch the thick substance of red coating her ankles, waves of it washing past her in a small river of blood and when she turned to find the source a large hand shot through the darkness of the vortex gripping her by the throat, as hands came forward to fend off the strength of the entity beyond, chains snapped toward her and when the rattle of the metal loosed – everything went black.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, and Vahalia found herself in bed with her hand stamped to one side of her face. The sweat that clung to her brow felt cold despite the heat of the day lingering well into the evening. Trying to sort herself out, her attention was drawn to the open window nearby, and the waves beyond that crashed against the sharp edges of the cliffs not too far off.
She was back in Black Water, that much she could surmise, thankful for the comforts of her own home and bed despite the dream leaving her feeling less than such. Her body was rattled despite not a shriek or a jolt coming from her, which was a small boon to not have woken Hakan as he lay resting.
It was still dark, perhaps she hadn’t been asleep long, it was difficult to return to the normalcy she had in Black Water after being in Dalmasca for as long as she had been. A personal quest of Hakan’s that she had seen to accompanying him on and what had turned into a trip she had thought to be a couple of weeks at most, had turned into nearly two months.
Slowly, her hand drew over her face, and she slipped from the sheets, bare feet finding purchase along the cold floor. The lantern at her bedside flickered a soft green, her timepiece wrapped around the base of the metal cresset, which lay with many of her other belongings she often kept upon her person.
She needed a distraction, something to lull her away from the dream and the series of things she had been witness to. Drawing her silken robe along her frame, she made for the far side of the room where a bassinet had been placed, peering within to see Aradia slumbering peacefully.
It was said to let sleeping babies lie, but there was a selfish need for some sliver of comfort and so, Vahalia dipped her hands into the bassinet carefully and cradled the infant towards her, a gentle sway finding her gait as she strode from the room and out into the hall. Passing portraits of elders passed and the various collections of armor on display, Vahalia tucked into the Library and found comfort within the seat across from the fire.
At first, her voice was a low hum and then a melody of words was offered as she rocked the sleeping babe, putting her focus elsewhere than the event that left her calloused.
In the twisted grove where shadows play, A silent watcher bides its stay Hidden ‘neath the ancient tree, A knower of things that should not be. It speaks in tongues of elder times, Each word a bell of chilling chimes Its sight pierces through the veil. Of futures written in detail. Dare you speak to that which waits. Behind a veil of fae gates? Its counsel deep, a venom’s kiss. Clad in the guise of promised bliss. Its roots are steeped in blood-soaked lore, Its branches scratch at heaven’s door A serpent’s coil, a spider’s web, In its gaze, the World’s ebb. Whispers weave into your mind, A tapestry of fate unkind With every truth it so imparts, A darker seed in your heart starts. Flee the glade, ignore the call, Of the one that sees, predicts, enthrals. For once its visions in you burn, There’s no return, no overturn. So children heed this fearsome rhyme, Keep to the light and bide your time For the dark, the truths you seek, May be the end of the brave and meek.
Dipping her head close, Vahalia placed a small kiss along Aradia’s cheek, the child barely stirring as they slept and not too soon after had a cold touch come upon her mantle. Her attention garnered as it had been desired and the set of golden eyes peered over her shoulder to the rest of the room, only to find the looming shadow of a being behind her, elongated fingers clutching down over the entirety of her shoulder.
Breathlessly, she scoffed, almost amused, which caused her to nearly chuckle had it not of been for the sleeping child within her arms, “There you are,” she spoke in a whisper, as if an expanse of stress had freed itself from its cage within her ribs.
Finally.
Gently her hand lifted and found purchase against the cold inky flesh of Creature, a series of chittered emitting from the Voidsent as the other hand of Creature’s found the back of the chair Vahalia had been sitting in, his lumbering form arching over to get a better look at the infant that slept so soundly cuddled against his Mistress’s bosom.
“This one is different. New.” He spoke, a cacophony of voices coupled into his words.
“Indeed, just so.” Vahalia replied with a smile and she pulled the blanket from Aradia’s cheek for Creature to gather a better view, the precious daughter that carried Cress blood, a proper Daughter of Dalmasca, “Aradia, I would expect you to protect her as you do me, she is to be part of the future someday. Perhaps not soon but it is promised. I expect great things from her.”
For the first time that Vahalia could tell, Creature seemed uncertain but quite curious about the small ‘pink-thing’ that wiggled within the blanket and scrunched its face. Odd, he had been around Evran and Idalia plenty and had made his comments about them, but this time, a guttural grumble loosed from his maw, and eventually, he turned away.
“As you say, but it must be said that this one is equally blessed by the day. I am not certain which way it will sway. Something is not quite right. Not inherently wrong either.”
Vahalia turned to watch as Creature began to tapper towards the space where the walls connected and the corner drew dark, “A blessing you should consider important to your survival and hunger for life. Trust me when I tell you this, I suspect her to be my successor someday.”
“Someday.” Creature parroted. And with a series of clicks and chitter, he disappeared, tendrils and inky shadows slithering in his wake until the darkness of the wall turned natural.
[ Poem used in the story by Willaim Moore; The Tome of Terrible Truths ] Mention(s): @belgravexiv
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