The Astral Pathway: Ashari

[Guest]

Some scholars have speculated that there is no such thing as instantaneous travel. Since spellweavers of all kinds have sometimes suffered from amnesia after performing long-distance magickal journeys, and others have claimed to have had visions while traveling, they instead believe that some realm must exist where these travelers go, where there is no true distance, only time and something else. However, these scholars were rarely magicians or priests, and none of them had actually consciously made a magickal journey, and other magicians who had, just smiled knowingly and said nothing.
Possibly, the scholars would have been very surprised to learn that their theory wasn’t far from the truth.

This was the Astral Pathway. It was a place you visited mostly in dreams, or if you were a shaman and drank something with lots of interesting mushrooms in it; it was a place where spirits, gods, sprites and fae lived when they weren’t bugging mortals in Tazlure’s Reality. The Pathway had no rules, no set form of its own. Instead, it was a reflection: it shaped itself to the dreams of all who lived on Tazlure, and to whatever came near to it. Some children went here and saw mountains of candy (unless they were dwarves, in which case it looked like a gold mine. Dwarves start early). Others met with a den of boogeymen. But mostly you came there, had a few weird, but revealing and soothing experiences, and left.
The one constant thing that could be said about the Astral Pathway, however, was that it contained an essence of yourself. No-one ever came here without coming face to face with themselves. And sometimes, if you were really smart, you actually learned something.

Ashari arrived in what appeared to be a lush valley. There were hills around her, and somewhere off the spot she was at, she could see a grove with a small wellspring bubbling up. There was no path of sorts, but the fragrance of flowers and sweet fruit prevented any fear, and she knew that, somehow, at the end of any path she should choose, Iorn would be waiting for her. She had all the time she wanted before she went to this place which, she vaguely recalled, was the Citadel.
A silly thought. Who, after all, would build a citadel in such an untouched paradise?

[Ashari]

Ashari remembered a fire in the back of her mind. Fire... coin... Iorn! Her eyes opened wide and she found herself in the greenery. "Wait. This isn't right." Glancing left and then right she closed her eyes once more. "Let's try again." Slowly the young woman allowed her gray orbs to look across the valley. It was a peaceful place, she didn't feel like she was in any harm, but she wasn't sure if they had done something wrong to get separated. A small sigh fell from her lips as she gazed over her surroundings.

Logically, she thought this was a bad situation, lost in some paradise, but in her soul she felt like no matter what she did she would find her love and all would be fine. It was just a matter of time. I've got time, no worries.

Pulling in a deep breath through her nose Ash absorbed the scent of the blooms. "Ok. This is alright... I'll just get going on foot." A look of determination crossed her face and she began walking across the soft green grasses toward the bubbling sound of water. There was a certain lightness to the raven haired beauty's steps due to her pride in how she had created the fire. She had proven herself able to do whatever her mind set itself to. Humming to herself, loudly, since she didn't have to worry about any one listening, Ash kept a good pace toward the wellspring.

[Guest]

As she approached the small pool and wellspring, an idyllic sight exposed itself before her.
The grove, at which center stood the pool and wellspring, was a small, sheltered spot that housed a few trees, old trees overgrown with moss. The trees formed a sort of wall, paradoxically friendly, sheltering the pool. Around the water, small, funnily-coloured patches mushrooms sprung up, and small beds of flowers lay scattered inbetween verdant green grass and soft, even moss. The flowers gave off a pleasant fragrance, unspoilt by human hands.
When she came to the pool, wind blew through the mossy trees, forming a strangely wispery voice.
Who are you? they seemed to ask. Why are you here?
It seemed a rather deep question, somehow.

[Ashari]

Ashari was profoundly impacted by the untouched beauty that surrounded her. There was a serenity that touched her soul, calming and... (forgiving?)... comforting. As she approached the well spring and saw the endearing flowers underfoot she felt the urge to be wary of them, not to disturb their precious perfection. So, carefully, she made her way across the soft moss to kneel at the pool of water.

A slight breeze caught the mage's hair and tugged at the loose locks framing her face. Amidst the rush of air she felt the question. It wasn't the same as hearing it, and somehow, that made it more powerful.

"I am Ashari." First name basis with the etherial voice? "Ashari Gywien." She corrected herself. "Daughter of Jonin Gywien." It was the first time she had uttered her father's name since his death. "I am a sorceress, a traveller. I'm not sure how I came upon this place, I mean to make my way toward the Citadel. This path.. I.. I'm not sure how it works. What is this place?" There were more questions, but she had learned from the Grandmere, and specifically from Thira, that sometimes it was best to hold one's tongue with such things. No need to have everyone refer to me as 'Fool of Questions'. Though, the title had been an acceptable endearmant from the cranky old elfess.

The scent of the fragrant flowers flowed past Ash's nose, and for the first time she truely appreciated the little blooms and their sweet aroma. She had never been one to 'stop and smell the flowers' or any such thing, always much too busy with her own things, in all areas of her life. Here she felt it was pressing to just take it slow, however. The mage didn't want to rush this. Much of her time the past few days had been spent in alternate realities. Places like the Aether and the Nether and inbetween. Even being locked in the dreamworld had been an experience pressed upon the young woman.

[Guest]

A few moments went by without anything really happening. There was a rustling of wind in the trees, but if that formed words at all, they certainly weren't in any language that Ashari could understand. The grove just lay there, peacefully, the wellspring rushing gently up into the pond.
Then, someone came out of the lake. She - for this was clearly a woman - wore bright robes, cheerful tones and colours interwoven with a pure, almost pious white. Curiously enough, although she came out of the water, she wasn't wet at all, but rather moved as though the water had been simple air.
Her face, serene, was beautiful: etherial yet human, with soft tones beneath blue-black hair. The eyes, also serene, were grayish, though shot with silver. The woman made a strong impression, as though her features were muscular, but at the same time she was grateful in a way that would have made Ashari jealous in any other circumstance. Now, however, it was just supremely odd to see an idealized, serenzied version of yourself come up out of a pool and smile at you.
"Hello, Ashari," the woman said with a friendly smile. She spoke slowly, as though she had only recently awakened from a dream.
"You ask what this place is, yet, that is difficult to answer. It is a place in the past, but also of your future. It is within you, but at the same time, not part of your world. You are here because you are dreaming, yet since you are awake, the situation is very different."
Then, the woman cocked her head to the side. "The grove wants to know why you have come here. Can you perhaps answer that question for us?"

[Ashari]

Ashari heard nothing around her, another breeze swept by and the dark haired woman held her breath to listen, but nothing resembling words caught her ears. Already she was questioning whether or not she had really heard anything the first time. Maybe it was my imagination. She thought and looked into the depths of the water infront of her. Exhaling sharply she sent ripples across the surface of the pool and almost didn't notice the movement beneath the surface until the woman was coming out of the water.

Her grey eyes grew wide with astonishment as the etherial being slipped from the wellspring. Clawing at the grass beneath her Ashari crawled backwards away from the water but never took her eyes from the beautiful form before her. Ash scrutinized the woman and was more shocked than anything at the resemblence between the two.

"The grove wants to know?" She asked, looking around at the backdrop of trees beyond the wellspring. Grove makes sense I guess. "I am travelling." Slowly she stood up from the soft ground. "I didn't really plan on coming here it just sort of happened, if that makes any sense. I was with another - an adhiel named Iorn Thalas. We were travelling with the blessing of Pecunia." Ash licked her lips unsure of how to continue. "It's very beautiful here. You are very beautiful as well. Are you a part of all this?" She asked referring to the woman's usage of 'us' when talking earlier. Her hand motioned around to the velvety moss and fragrant flowers.

[Guest]

The woman nodded.
"Yes, I am part of all this, and as you can see, also part of you. Because of this, I know you in ways that you yourself still do not, as I watch you from the outside as well as from the inside, and as as yet watch only from the inside."
With a serene smile, the woman looked her over.
"I can feel magick deep within you. What can you tell me about it?"

[Ashari]

The woman's words spun through Ashari's mind and they felt all to familiar, much how the Grandmere had spoken of knowing much of her inner workings and all of the outside world, where Ashari was limited to her own thoughts and what she could comprehend. Am I so ignorant?

"Yes, I've been taught of Magick." The young woman bit her lip. "I was shown the ways of the Grandmere, of the ancient magick of the fae." She recalled the tome she had read about the history of mindcraft and where it came from. "It was taught to me how to bend a man's will, to persuade him to do my bidding and how to read the thoughts of those around me." It was a strong statement to make, and yet she did not fear reprocussions of her words. "I've seen other things though, recently, that which I did not understand before. Of the energy that surrounds us - twirling colored streams of light."

"And you... why do you look the way you do?" She asked. Ash had a feeling that the creature before her was as fluid as the water she stepped out of. "What are you?" It would be a rude question under any other circumstances, say, if she were talking to a noblewoman in the Citadel, but here it felt perfectly acceptable as she faced the etherial woman whose appearance was much too much like her own for comfort.

[Guest]

"Why," the beautiful woman told her, "I am you. I am your reflection through an astral mirror. I am what is inside of you, yet, I am also a promise of the future."
She smiled her serene smile, again. "You have, indeed, magick within you. Yet it is not the magick that you have been promised by Grandmere, for she merely fuelled your insights with her own, replenished your energies with hers. You were given wings, yes - but you were not taught to fly, nor that you need no wings for it." She cocked her head. "Do you understand? All beauty and power of the world resides within you, as it does within many. But for this inner beauty, you must look to energies without, and you must look alone, unaided by one trapped in strappings. A formal path leads only to formal destinations."
The woman then turned her eyes towards the pond; although Ashari sensed she could still ask questions if she wished, she also knew on some level that the woman was done speaking about this topic, or at least wouldn't volunteer any more information on it without prompting.
Within the pond, the clear blue water reflected the both of them, and again, if you looked, you could be struck by the remarkable resemblence between Ashari and this woman. It was almost... what? A promise?
Suddenly, a third image appeared: an adhiel. The image was familiar to Ashari, since she'd spent quite some time with him, yet she could tell that his features were somehow, well, wrong. He was paler, and something unholy glowed in his eyes. There was only the reflection, though; out there, they were alone, the two of them.
"Do you know this man?" the woman asked with a knowing smile.

[Ashari]

Ashari listened intently as the Grove described how the Grandmere had been a hindrance more than a help. As she spoke of the magick and beauty and all that resided within the young woman Ash could feel a shiver run down her spine. There was so much she did not yet understand, so much she yearned to understand. She had heard rumors of a College of Magick in the Citadel, perhaps when she arrived there would be answers there about this place, things she couldn't ask the grove.

Her attention was drawn from the image of the woman and herself standing side by side to another image, which caused her to look over her shoulder, but he wasn't there, only in the water. His familiar face tugged at her heart, but there was a hollow softness about the vision, it wasn't really him.

"I know someone who looks very much like that." She said slowly, with deliberation in her tone. Ashari was discomforted by the image displayed beneath her. "That's not him though." It was a difficult thing to describe, a knowing, the way she had known there was something wrong with Iorn when the demon had inhabitted his body, and he was merely a shell. Licking her lips she turned away from the visage. "What is that? By what magick are you doing this? Why?" She worked to keep the hysterics from creeping into her voice. She felt very alone here, without her love at her side.

[Guest]

The beautiful woman looked down into the pool, at the unmirrored reflection of Iorn. Her eyes were sad, but Ashari wouldn't have been able to detect anything malicious or otherwise bent on hurt in her features, or even her eyes.
"It is not him; this is true. We sense from your life and from your eyes that there is another man, deeper down, hidden behind many layers."
She turned to Ashari, and looked into her eyes. "Yet he is a man, not a fruit to be peeled. His layers are a part of him, and you cannot remove any parts without damaging the whole."
Now, the woman was looked at the grove, at the peaceful pond that, in itself, inspired such tranquility, such pleasant warmth in Ashari.
"Out here," she continued, "there is the peace of natural ways. City or plain, study or talent, priest or wizard or witch" - the emphasis was not harsh or insulting, but nevertheless very clear - "the natural peace can prevail if nothing disturbs it."
The woman gestures to the beautiful trees, the small wellspring. "It is yours, Ashari. It lies within you, and thus within your grasp. Yet, ahead also lies another path. The path with him. I cannot tell you anything of good or evil, only that this place cannot coexist with one whose mind carries shards such as these."
And now, the pond showed a different thing. Gone were their reflections, and now a different image appeared: a campfire. Sitting at it was a man dressed in traveler's garb, in tones of black and red. He had a black goatee, and two small horn protruded from under a spiky bush of black hair. His eyes gleamed with the relish of some evil, harmless or not. And he was playing the flute...
More, the pond did not show, but the woman had once again turned her face to Ashari, as if waiting for a response.

[Ashari]

"He is a great man, a strong man." She paused for a flicker. "A powerful man." Ashari licked her lips. She wanted to defend him, but it wasn't a full on attack. "There is nothing I would change about him. Nothing I would take away." The young mage recalled the other threats she had faced. Thira had told her there would come a point where she would have to chose what she really wanted, that her divided interests, in Iorn and in other matters, like those of King's Court which she had been so caught up in. No longer would those things be of importance, but her Love, he would always be in her heart.

The dark haired beauty listened to the Grove speak of all things, that these were within her, within her as a witch. The word stuck out, not painfully so, but with enough bite to call her attention as to what her dream realm twin was saying.

It was then she looked down into the pool of water again and watched as it shifted and presented another image, a new vision of what wasn't truely there, the way the broken Iorn hadn't been there. This one was different though, and she didn't recognize him. The horns, poking up through the hair, they reminded her of something, a story of the heretic gods of the Citadel, those that Dominicus didn't approve of and chose not to tolerate as was custom with the Mother. "Wh.. Who is that?" She queried looking down into the pond. She strained to hear that which he played, as if by concentrating she could pull out the song from the depths of the water.

[Guest]

"You do not know this man now," the woman responded, "but you will, soon enough. He is the Trickster." Her eyes were sad. "And he is a part of the shattered man."
And now, she started walking. "There is a tale, which you may have heard at the place when you were young, about the young man and the Smiling Spirit." Slowly, she moved along the edges of the pool; Ashari could see faint reflections in the water, images like the previous two, appear and disappear as the woman told the story.
"In a place somewhere far away, there lived a young man in the village. He was handsome and had a voice for telling stories, but he was also shy; whenever he was done telling a story, he would fall silent and shrink from whomever tried to speak with him - except for his four friends, the boys he had grown up with. They told each other everything, and to them and them only, he could speak freely. The young man was in love with the daughter of the town elder, and would often watch her with her chores, but never dared to approach her, for he knew that if she spoke to him, he would make a fool of himself."
She had reached a couple of willows standing near the pool, and ran her hand along their smooth bark as she continued. "One day, when the young man went into the forest to gather firewood, he found a small stone statue, half covered in moss. The statue depicted a very ugly man, yet it was so beautifully made, so gracious and compelling that the young man had to reach out and touch it. He cleaned it and took it home, where he sat it on the table. Then he went to tell the children of the village a story before bedtime.
"That night, when he was asleep, a green and red mist with a human face came to him in his dreams. It had the kindest voice, and told him that it was the spirit of smiles. It knew of his troubles with talking to people, and promised to help him, if the young man would let part of the spirit live in his mind instead of the statue. The young man was tempted, but he knew that it was always a bad idea to let spirits live in you, and so he refused. The next night, the spirit again came to him, and offered to give him the power to let all see him as his four friends did. Again the young man was tempted, but again, he declined in the end, and again the spirit left. Then, on the third day, the Smiling Spirit appeared in his dreams once more, telling him this would be the final time, and offered its help. But this time, it said that it would make the elder's daughter look at him, and smile at him, and it would give him the words with which he could speak with her, and with a thousand others. And now the young man, thinking he wanted only one thing in his life, the elder's daughter, agreed."
Her sad eyes turned on Ashari once more, and the events kept being displayed in the pool. It was like everyone she'd ever known had a part in it, since the people shown in the pool acted like the ones in the story, yet had the faces of people she knew; people who'd fit the part.
"That morning, the young man woke up, and from that moment onwards, never feared talking to anyone ever again. At first he spoke with the elder's daughter, but she was shy because he'd never spoken to her before, and now he spoke as if he had been speaking to her all his life. And because everyone wanted to talk to him now that his beautiful voice had found smiling words, he soon lost interest in her, and in his friends, who had spoken to him all his life and therefore had nothing new to offer him now. And in the end, the young man left the village looking for more people to speak to.
"Many years later, the village elder's daughter, who had now married one of the four friends, came to the city for market-day. There she found a begger in an alley. When she gave him a coin to ease his suffering and he thanked her, she recougnized his golden voice: it was the young man. She looked at him with surprise and asked many questions, but the young man was just ashamed and did not want her charity. He was ill; after everyone talked to him, he found that he had no friends, and he had to sleep on the street. She went away, but the next day came back and offered her help again; again, he declined. The next day, she came too, and he too refused her. And on the third day, she came to his alley and found he had died.
"The elder's daughter took his body back home, where she and the four friends buried him. And on the stone over his grave, they wrote five lines that told people to remember the storyteller and the friend, and to forget the changed one, for he had never existed."
The woman kept looking at her, and asked: "Does this story mean anything to you?"

[Ashari]

"The trickster?" The rogue asked dimly, but then the woman was walking away, and heading around the pool. At first she made to follow, but then paused. Movement caught her eye and she looked down into the water to see an image forming, a picture to match the words in the story. Silently she waited and listened, and absorbed it all.

It was a beautiful and sad story, and at first Ashari couldn't speak for lack of words to express what she felt. By what magick is all of this... She thought with wonderment. The faces of people she had known had so casually been presented, as if just plucked from her mind. It brought back memories from a life she was trying to leave behind, and here the woman probed her, asking her if it meant anything to her, and all she could think of was Iorn.

"Yes, it does. Iorn was changed..." She stopped, she didn't want to believe her love had been so broken to be referred to as 'shattered' and yet she recalled the way he had been with the sword, the way his eyes reflected nothing of the light around him. "But he's better now." Her grey eyes sought the woman's eyes. "The demon is gone, Father Baedo stopped it with his magick." How naive. Now it took all of her energy to not think of Iorn, and not nit-pick at who he had been since Father Baedo's ritual, following through everything he said to make sure it was right.

What if it didn't work? Her heart began racing. She had slept with him last night, could it not have been only him, but stained with the demon as well? No.. I would've known. Ashari was trying to convince herself more than anything else. "Did the ceremony work? Is that.. the Trickster.. is that another face of Memnoch? The demon that tried to steal my love away?"

[Guest]

The woman shook her head, and for the first time, it seemed as if she was speaking a direct truth.
"No, the entity known as Memnoch does not reside in him any longer. We know its mind, and we do not sense it here, in the Pathway. Yet Memnoch lives on. He is not immortal, but your holy man did not know the rituals, nor had he the knowledge to end its existence. And while Memnoch survives, so does the dark shard that resides within the Shattered one."
But then, the beautiful woman smiled at her: a different smile, one that almost implied secret knowledge.
"But if I am to understand, I will ask you this, even though I sense it withou speaking: you will not abandon him? Your place is at his side, as much as his is at yours?"
It was as much a question as a request for confirmation; her tone asked for more than a simple yes or no, as if the woman wanted to hear the reasons she already suspected...

[Ashari]

Ashari knew it was true. Baedo had said himself he wouldn't be able to kill it. The Grandmere had said the same. It was a fight that had been going on for more yahren than Ash even knew. Iorn and she were supposed to be escaping that though, and yet it appeared as if no matter how far they went it would follow them.

"How... how would you get rid of it? The shard, that is." There had always been a darkness within Iorn as long as she had known him. When they first met there was a cloud about his eyes, but she thought she had pierced through it and offered him a clarity and brightness he had not known before. That act of rescuing him from himself had done as much for her as for him, as it made her feel that much closer to him.

"You are correct.. I would never leave him. I couldn't." Ash knew what the pain of being away from him had done to her already. He had been so incredibly angry with her for the triste with Mazus, she had been equally angry with herself. They got past that though, or so she thought. "He is a part of me, a part of my soul." There was an emptiness in that response. There were so many things she couldn't articulate, emotions with out words. "He is my world." She finally said. "There is a light within him, people don't often see it, maybe I'm the only one to have ever seen it, but he positively bursts with it." With a smile she recalled their first night together. He had been so gentle with her, so kind. "I will be at his side for all of eternity."

[Guest]

Around them, things were changing. It had come slightly at first, but now Ashari's senses, attuned as they were to mystical things, began picking them up. The sky was alterning, darkening itself, and the winds were picking up just a little. Where first the sun had shone, now a moon was becoming vaguely visible in the onsetting dusk. The evening was coming, but it was a quiet evening, a summer's evening in a peaceful village. There was no threat of rain or storm, of cold or dark things in the night.
"Ashari Gywien," the woman said to her while evening appeared, "there is much you can learn. This place, this Astral Pathway, holds untold knowledge. All dream here, and so all dreams are here. Yet I cannot tell you how this shard is defeated, save by defeating Memnoch himself, and it is not yet time for this."
She smiled at her. "First, there are things you must learn, ways in life that you must find. You must search for the magick within yourself. Know your part in the balance; and protect your other half. This is all I can tell you on the subject."
Then, with the same smile, yet softer, she commented: "You have found an anchor; living paradox, two lives whose foundations are the other's. He will help you find what is hidding inside you, and you must help him keep in check what he could easily unleash. Balance must be in all things: dark and light."
She looked at the sky, and now, night had set in. Around them, the peaceful sounds of a forest in slumber, draped in night's veils, were audible.
"Our time is almost done. Are there other things you wish to question?"

[Ashari]

The twilight came so suddenly, and almost immediately after it's arrival the night fell and blanketted them within it's dark presence. "Everyone dreams here?" She asked, thinking of the untold stories of each man's mind, and how much it spoke of him. Ashari had found her way into the waking thoughts of several but, the dreamworld was untouched excepting in her own personal nighttime tales.

Before her the grove spoke of the way that Iorn and she must balance eachother. Help one another. It made perfect sense really. The statement that held the strongest in her mind was that of: Balance must be in all things: dark and light.

The softness of the sounds around her, the grove seemingly slipping off into it's own slumber, brought a stronger sense of peace within Ashari. "How do I find my way back here? I've no longer got the coin, and even with it, I'm not sure how I came to be here, and not have Iorn with me." That was no doubt the most peculiar thing about. The pair set out together, with the same destination in mind, and yet their paths wound so vastly apart.

[Guest]

The woman with the beautiful, sad smile shook her head.
"At present, you cannot return - and even if you could again visit the astral pathways, we would not be here, and this place would not be the same. The pathway offers what is expected, and your very expectations would alter what you would seek."
Around them, the wind picked up slightly, and the trees rustled in the cool evening air. Their sounds were content, friendly sounds, sounds that lulled to sleep.
"There are ways to come back to the astral pathway, though," the woman continued. "Once you have found your ways in the witchery within yourself, you will be able to visit dreams. Search for the doorway there."
The woman smiled again, and Ashari realized that her voice had been like a lullaby. Between that and the radient peacefulness of the trees, her eyelids were becoming heavy.
"Is there more you want to know?" the woman asked, now like a grandmother speaking to her daughter's daughter.

[Ashari]

Ashari nodded, it made sense. As her head went up and down her eyes became heavy. The melodic lullaby of the woman's voice clouded her mind. "No.. no more questions." She said slowly as her eyes closed and she had to use all the energy she had in reserve to open them again to look out across the grove.

It was such a beautiful place.

She never wanted to forget what she was seeing.

However, she was already drifting. As much as she wanted to remember, she wanted even more to awake in the Citadel, in Iorn's arms, where she knew she would be safe and didn't have to keep questioning her surroundings.

[Guest]

The woman cast her one last smile, and then Ashari's eyelids finally became too heavy. She drifted off, and it felt as if she was entering the most pleasant sleep she had ever experienced.

Only seconds later, she would be walking out of Pecunia's shrine on Temple Lane in the Citadel - but her memory of the Astral Pathway would not return until later that day...