Reverie
Pet Name: Reverie
Owner: nine
Theme / Type: Wintercursed Lirionox
MisticPal Name: Lacuna
MisticPal Age: 5184 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 4 / 4
Strength: 4
Defense: 2
Speed: 2
Intellect: 3
Misticpower: 4
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: None
1. - Jolly Mistmas Pomme
[ - M E M E N T O M O R I - ]
Given Name (Main): Yune Celitz ; Given Name (Alternate): Rain Celitz
Age: Various
[Crass || Cynical || Easy-Going || Cheeky || Inquisitive]
Job: Historian
[Loves: History, Food, Kittens]
[Dislikes: Closed-mindedness, Blood, Mathematics]
---
Remember that the world is imperfect, but if you look hard enough, you will find beauty.
---
My eyes snapped open with a start. The cool air entering my lungs stung. It was silent and dark - the only sound being my labored breathing.
I was lying on the ground. The cool rocks under my body felt nice - polished smooth with age. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed the faintly glowing runes carved with care into the walls, floor, and ceiling of wherever I was. I absently began tracing the slight indents with my fingertips as I got my bearings.
"Welcome back, Yune," a lyrical voice rang through the silence - girly and familiar. "How are you feeling?"
"I..." I croaked out pathetically. Was that really my voice? It was cracked and dry, like someone had taken sandpaper to my throat. Who is this girl? I tried frantically to scour my memories in vain - drawing a blank. I know her. I know I know her.
"It's ok," she reassured. "You were killed this time - it always takes a bit to gather yourself after something like that. Take it slow. My name is Sylphie. I am your guide. Your name is Yune. You are a Historian."
Slowly, the memories trickled back. I strained my neck and took a good look at Sylphie - a girl who looked no older than fourteen. With full cheeks, big blue eyes, and curly reddish-brown hair that framed her face and fell past her back, she really was quite cute. A pair of crystalline-blue ram horns peeked out from the mass of curls, and her legs ended in hooved feet. What were they called again... Satyrs? That's what they're called in some worlds, anyways.
"Right," I rasped, as I struggled lamely to sit up. Warm liquid ran down my chest, and I looked down to see a gaping hole. Blood flowed freely from the wound. I realized at that moment that the floor around me was slick with blood. It seeped into the cracks of the rocks, painting the floor maroon.
Before I could panic, my thoughts were interrupted by Sylphie's giggle. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. The rebirth process should begin shortly." No sooner had she said that, the blood that had been draining out of my body at an alarming rate began to creep back, as if it possessed a mind of its own. Red, viscous tendrils took hold of my arms and legs and seeped into my skin, which greedily drank it up like a parched sponge. I watched with morbid fascination as the muscles in my chest began to knit itself back together - first the damaged organs, then the pectorals, then finally the skin, until nothing - not a scar, not a mark, remained. I gasped as my heart leapt back to life, and within moments, comfortable warmth began to spread from my chest.
It felt like whatever was damming my memories broke, and they flooded back in a huge, dazzling wave.
"Do you remember everything?"
"Yeah, thanks Sylphie. Sorry 'bout that."
She smiled and took my hand in hers, warming it up. "It's fine. Seems like you had a tough time, huh? You don't usually get into situations like that."
"Yeah..." I trailed off, not sure what else to say. I was killed before my time was up in my previous life. A wave of regret hit me. It would be a very long time before I visit that world again.
Sylphie seemed to sense my concern. "It happens to even the best of Historians! Don't worry about it too much. You should be celebrating, instead! As of today, you've completed your first circuit of the entire Tower - that's huuuuuge!" She clapped her hands together in glee, "You'll be starting over from the first stratum with your next rebirth! So, so, when you're ready, let me know! Are you ready now?"
I lay flat on the floor again, spreading my arms and legs out, letting my body relax against the cool rocks - observing the undulating glow of the runes.
"Mm... nah, lemme gather my memories for a bit, ok?"
Sylphie nodded and backed away.
This tower - the Oasis Ring, is a pan-dimensional tower. Each floor (or as the Guides and Historians refer to them - Stratum) of the Oasis Ring is a different universe. The place I am right now is somewhere. A place neither here nor there. A place that is located between worlds yet shouldn't exist at all. It is here that you see the true nature of the Oasis Ring - a series of tunnels, rooms, and stairs leading nowhere, built with bricks of strange, blue-grey rock. Everywhere you look, strange text, faintly glowing teal, is carved into every brick. Neatly, row by row, brick by brick, if you let your eyes blur, the walls, ceiling, and floor looked vaguely like the pages of a book.
The meaning of the words carved into the rocks have long-since been lost. Perhaps only the Creators know what they truly say - or maybe they don't mean anything at all.
Excluding the universes, which are populated by any number of things, the only people who populate this somewhere belong to one of three groups.
The first are the Historians - those like me. I don't know where I came from or how I came to be - that's just how we are. Historians are genderless entities and we each have distinct personalities. The one thing we all have in common is the fact that we each possess a Memento Mori - a single trinket of no particular use, and the only hint that we once had a life aside from being a Historian. We know that it once held strong sentimental value, but the value is lost to us. Mine is a tarnished bronze coin that I keep hanging around my neck. Faint words in a language I can no longer read are etched into the face of the coin, and a little square hole is at the center. Our job as Historians is to live in the various universes of the Oasis Ring, to observe the cultures and histories of each world and its civilizations, and to relay this information to the Librarians - a special group of Historians. When we are born into a world, we lose all memory of our previous lives - we are mortal. We are what we were born to be - no longer "Historians", but simply another life. We retain a strong fascination with history and we watch the world. We may be born peasants, we may be born kings - and we are expected to live and learn. Sometimes we will change history. Sometimes we are just another face in the crowd. Our personalities are always shaped by the lives we live, but are faintly colored by how we are as Historians (I admit, I tend to be cynical at times). When we "die" in that world, from natural means or unnatural means, we return here, to this limbo of sorts, and wait to be reborn in the next stratum up. It's only while we are here that we remember all of our past lives. The Librarians automatically record the memories we made and the lives we lived. It's a rare treat to see them face-to-face, but I always have meaningful conversations with them when I do.
The Librarians are kind of like the leaders of the Historians, and only consist of only two beings - their names are Raven and Crow. Every single world of the Oasis Ring has blackbirds. The blackbirds are the eyes and ears of the Oasis Ring, and the familiars of the Librarians. They do the same thing we Historians do, but on a much more widespread basis. Historians provide the "human" account of living in the world, blackbirds provide an unbiased account of all the events happening in each Stratum at any given time. These two Librarians have been alive since the beginning of time and never leave. I don't know them very well, but they are very friendly.
The second group is the Guides - those like Sylphie. Their appearances vary, but their purpose is the same. They keep us Historians on the right track, let us know how far up the tower we are, whether we have visited this world or not (and how much "time" has passed in that world since our last visit, since time flows differently in each world), and generally make small talk to keep us sane. I have never met other Guides, so I don't know how they are, but I think of Sylphie like a little sister. It's nice to have a burst of familiarity before my memories are wiped.
The final group is the Maestros. They are split up into two groups - the Creators, and the World Eaters. Maestros actually have the power to be both Creators and World Eaters, but generally they choose to perform only one of those tasks. The Creators, like their name suggests, create worlds. The age they appear corresponds directly to the number of worlds they have created. Though the Maestros, like Guides, Librarians, and Historians (while we are in-between tasks) are "ageless" and do not age as a direct result of passing time, Creators use pieces of their life, their soul, to create worlds. The older they appear, the more worlds they have created. Every Maestro, as a rite of passage, must create at least one world, so there are no infant Maestros running around. The World Eaters clean up worlds that have reached the end of their life, so to speak. Since each world is created from the life of a Creator, it's obvious to say that every world is a living entity. When World Eaters destroy a world, the "life" that went into creating that world is returned to the Creator who made it - restoring their appearance and allowing them to make a new world. I don't know how many Maestro exist, but they are truly an amazing group of people.
I sighed and closed my eyes, recalling moments from my many lives.
"Yune! Good! I managed to catch you on time!" A smooth voice interrupted my reminiscing. I opened my eyes to see a face far too close for comfort. Clear red eyes, like rubies, stared into my own. A messily groomed mop of black hair, framing a boyish, darkly tanned face sporting a goofy smile was close enough that I could feel his breath against my nose.
I squawked, startled, and smashed the palm of my hand into the face that was invading my personal space.
"Ow, ow, OW!" he cried out indignantly as he fell on his butt. Large black wings flapped awkwardly and he flailed his arms as he tried to regain balance. "What gives, Yune?! I thought I'd come by and congratulate you, but you smack me in the face!"
"Crow, you scared the crap outta me!" It was self-defense!
He stands up, ignoring Sylphie's bout of giggles, and offers me a hand to help me up. I take it, and he smiles when he pulls me to my feet.
"Congratulations, Yune, for completing your first circuit. Raven's busy and can't visit, but she's proud of you, too! You've grown a lot since your first task, but you still have much more to see. Please continue to experience everything that the world has to offer, and to continue to lend us your help!"
He wrapped his big cloak and his wings around himself.
"If I am remembering correctly, you made a friend in this next world, didn't you? If you remember to, you should visit him again. He's still alive, and I think he's still waiting for you." He smiled gently and patted me on the back.
If I remember to, yeah. I thought back to the time I spent in this world - it was my first assignment, and I had no clue what to expect. I was a loner then, with no real friends to speak of. But there was one who reached out to me, taught me the meaning of what life and living is, and to this day, I remember the words he left me before I died - in his ancient voice that sounded like creaking floorboards.
My dear, the world is only a boring place if you live a life of ignorance. Open your mind to people, the places, the things! Then, you'll find, there's so much to do, one lifetime simply isn't enough.
I smiled at Crow and Sylphie.
"I'm pretty excited, myself. I wonder what I'll be, this time?"
I was done reminiscing. It was time to dive back in. I gave Sylphie a nod, and she responded with a mouthed good luck, and the floor in front of me glowed brighter, giving way to a pool of water. Through the glassy surface, I could see the canopies of trees, and the muffled chirping of birds. With a final nod at Crow, I closed my eyes and dove into the water - feeling the shock of the cool liquid.
I felt my consciousness slipping away. The cold water that enveloped my body faded away to warmth, and I felt everything that made up Historian Yune get stripped away to nothing.
---
Ah. So it's time to be born.
---
A light in the shadows of falling leaves... Who could it be?
Black feathers and red ink - a gentle guardian angel.
White feathers and flawless penmanship - a cynical dreamer.
---
Adopted March 1, 2011! Poppeted Lirionox same day <3
Renamed April 13, 2011!
Won Pet Spotlight, June 2013! Thank you!!
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