Hill Of Ravens

Xenofos — Hill Of Ravens

????, Dark Season, Season/Movement Week


Context

Dark Season/Movement Week/Clay Day/Early eve continues from late waterday. [[[s02:session-21|Session 21]]]

Xenofos’ internal monologue so spoilery if you want to stay outside his head.

Events

I walk through the wet snow between the yurts in the greyness that remains of a grey day. After the yurt it and the snow feel astonishingly bright.
Wind tries to cover my eyebrows and beard with wet snow. I shake my head to get rid of it. But some of it just melts annoyingly.
I hear the weird throat singing and wailing sounds of the bisonhead violin as I pass the yurt of the Khan.
The herd is huddling together, it is not really cold, but wetness of the snow makes the bisons look pitiful.
I consider saddling up my zebra, but then I would need to go back to the yurt for the saddle and tack and since I am not going that far it is just not worth it. 

I walk past the herd, passing a small fire where the guards of the herd try to shelter from the wind of Urox. Someone yells something in Praxian, so I wave for answer.
There is comment and short burst of laughter carried by the wind. I do not approach to find out what that was about.

There is a small hill not too far capped by some rocks that I have noticed on my rides. My steps lead towards it over the darkening plain. I hop over a small brook meandering through rocks and start ascending towards the windswept hilltop.

I find a place among rocks where I am sheltered from the wind and can lean against side of the rock gazing at the darkening sky. The sheltered spot is even relatively dry since wind has driven the snow before it. I settle down and try to clear my mind of everything extraneous, dissect today with pure logic and regain my understanding of Truth immutable.

This might be easier if I already had that peace of mind I am looking for. Wind keeps on tugging my hat and on my forehead and cheek lingers a memory of feather light touch, like a sweet burn.
I recite the principles of Logic over and over again but I very much rooted in the windswept hilltop. If I close my eyes, watering from the wind, I see them both. One tall, one short. One clad in Truth and Death. One… not clad. She is indeed beautiful. Like Ernalda herself had descended to this wilderness. Or maybe Eiritha is more proper comparison in this land.
She did open my eyes. Oh yes. But did her own eyes open? I hope so.1 failed meditation, passed fertility and truth.

Wind is dying. Sky is clearing. Will that mean I get clarity? I rise my arms to form Y rune. Stars above my head rotate slowly. Last I felt the same way was when coming back from that Dreamroot journey. My arms feel heavy. They remind me I am a man, not Truth itself. I keep them up. I recite story of Lhankor Mhy’s search for her bride. Halfway the burn in muscles is overwhelming and I let my arms down.2 Con 5 91, a fail What is that star. Well of course it is Uleria. Who else?

I have not said anything I would not say again. Not a single thing was a lie. Well, she has turned my head on something. My feelings towards her are not just fraternal anymore. Love? Maybe, too early to say. Lust, certainly. And she is worthy of love, no doubt of that. Capricious trick from Uleria, but I will not complain. That rock looks suitable. I brought no wine, so this will have to do. Nasty to do the cut self.3 pass pow5, pass con5 And once more. And there. And the other end to close the rune.


Please accept this offering Uleria and hear thanks of Xenofos of Saiciae.
Should I sing the wound close? Maybe not yet.
Ernalda take your share. Thank you Allmother. Keep her under your care even if she worships your daughter Eiritha.
I wonder if he listens at all?
Master of Truth and Death? Grant her glorious death. But please not just yet?


That looks messy. The wet snow I guess. Did they hear me? Who knows.