[Inv]Tea, the Tree, and the River

"Somewhere in the center of the green sea that was the Adecus Forest, there lived a tree. This tree was old, and mighty; one of the oldest of the old trees. It had been there since the beginning, since the first day. It had witnessed the passing of countless nights, and endless days. Under its branches had many adventurers passed, and by its roots countless heroes had rested. The greatest ones were long forgotten to all, but the Tree remembered. It remembered the mighty fires that have raged in the distance, dancing for what seemed to be eons, and the days after where ash fell from the sky like a perpetual snowfall. Still, the Tree remembered the scar that is no longer visible to our eyes, and the joy it felt at not being consumed. And the great sorrow, at seeing so many of the old trees fall. Yet, the Tree found pride in watching so many of the young grow on the bones of its brethren, and shivered with glee when it spotted the tops of great green masses finally rising once more to hide the scorched earth from sight. Now those young saplings were big and tall too, though not as tall as the Tree. Sometimes, it would even be enough to make the Tree feel old. And then the River came."

Akino cleared his throat, for it had become hoarse with emotion. The Tree was a friend to him, as it was to many. An old friend, who never had a problem listening. The River wouldn't stop babbling.

"The River wasn't always a river, of course. It started off as a young stream; a trickle of water that descended from the mountains in search of its own path. And though it was young, it was never quite. All through the days and nights of its journey, it would talk to itself and those it passed by, sharing its tale so far. Often enough, no one wanted to listen to the noisy little streak, and so it decided it would grow big. Big and strong, so everyone would have to stop and listen while they crossed over its body. So it became a brook, and it fell down the hills and over stones, to the green lands below. It had seen many things from up on the mountain, including the fire that had scarred the very forests. Now it was there, among the soot covered grounds, sweeping the life rich substance along with it. It would carry the nutrients and ashes of the fallen across the lands, spreading their bounty. It wanted to do this, because it felt like it should have been there during the might fires that had rocked the forest. If it only had been there, it could have helped! Well now it could."

The River laughed a little, lapping at Akino's ankles with a muted appreciation for their being there on such a day. He touched its surface gently.

"And so the Brook, for it was still a Brook then, raced down over the hills, to the center of the Adecus Forest, into the glade where the Tree sat. A silent giant, a guardian at the base of the steppes from which the Brook had fallen. It was there that the Brook met someone who finally wanted to listen to its tale of long travels. The Tree was old, so very old, and had never seen the world outside of its glade. Through the Brook, it heard tales from far off, through the eyes of one closer to the earth than it had been in years. New friends they were, and happy ones. The Brook loved the Tree so much for listening, and under its watch it grew larger than ever. Growing fat with many rains, and happy for the many tales the friends swapped, the Brook became the River. To show its appreciation, the River gathered the ashes of the fallen ones and brought them down to the Tree, as a gift. The River knew they would make the Tree grow even larger, but the Tree did not want this. Instead, it told the River to become larger and spread the ashes about its glade, so that one day they might not be alone. And so the River did, becoming even wider so that it filled most of the glade as it passed, and the Tree now sat on its mighty shores. And as the River continue to travel along the lands beyond, it always told the Tree what it saw. It passed through towns, and villages, and by a city even. It went through dangerous places, dark places, and places where no soul have ever traveled. And the River and Tree grew together, the River always talking and the Tree always listening. And, together, they brought life to Adecus. Adventurers stopped on the banks of the mighty River, to rest beneath the ancient Tree, and to hear the stories that they shared with one another. It was said that if one listened close enough, they could learn all their was to know of the life and struggle through the two; and if you had a question, they told you to go offer it in meditation to the River and the Tree, and they would help you find the wisdom you sought. And they were happy, and they became good friends. The River gave the Tree much life, and the Tree gave the River many friends who came to listen along the shores."

Looking at the River now, Akino realized it had grown silent, and still as a mirror. It knew the end was coming, maybe it was sad?

"And then the day came when the Mountain fell. It was not something that anyone knew was coming, not even the Tree who had seen so many things. It was not because of God, or the Universe, or Fate. Or maybe it was fate? The River had left its home, you see. And in doing so, the Mountain had lost a part of itself, and had grown weak. The natural balance was shifted, and the life that once thrived their now thrived down below, in the shades of its peaks. And the Mountain grew cold, and alone, and weak. For many days and nights, it watched the River on its journey from stream to impassable body. And now it watched the River and the Tree, happy and together. With all its heart, it wanted to be down there, with the River and the Tree, sharing stories. After all, it was older than the both of them, and it knew many things. Many had walked its back, but still it felt more alone then ever. And all that emptiness, all that loneliness, and all that weakness from the River's absence eventually made the Mountain give in. It crumbled with sadness, following the cut that the River had created in its back. The stones fell, faster and faster, hurtling towards the River. Once they hit, they would dam it up, and it too would die. But the Tree knew this, and so it leaned in the wind with all its might. It leaned, and swayed, and stretched. And it caught the Mountain's stones, just in time. They stopped at the massive roots of the Tree, tearing and crushing them, pulling them from the ground. The Tree began to sway, as boulder after boulder bruised its ancient oaken body. The River tried to catch it, to hold it up, but to no avail. The more it ran about the Tree's roots, trying to lift it, the more the Tree fell towards the River, as if for one final touch. And then it fell over the River, like a blanket, its mighty roots now snaking towards the skies. And the River cried, and called out to the Tree. But the Tree was sleeping the deep sleep now, and couldn't wake up. But the River would not give up, calling out louder. It began to recite stories, the many stories they had shared. And with each story, the River would collide with the Tree with a mighty wave, attempting shake it back to life. But the Tree remained silent, and slumbering. Still the River cried out, harder and harder. Until it remembered one story, the final story. The story of the sea, which the Tree loved most of all. And so the River took the sleeping Tree away then, on a journey the two would never forget. They passed through towns, and villages, and by a city even. They went through dangerous places, dark places, and places where no soul have ever traveled. And then, together, they went out into the sea, for their final adventure. The one that would never end."

Akino walked to the massive hole on the River's shore, where water pooled. And from its center, a small sapling grew. Sitting along the banks of the lake, or Tree Lake as he called it, he rolled the legs of his pants up and dipped his feet in, sighing and watching the various critters that came and went through the meadow that populated the glade. The Tree Lake gave water to many of the wildlife around here, and fish even swam in the lake. One brushed against his foot just then, causing the felis to smile with a glimmer of salty remembrance in his eyes. Looking back to his two friends, he takes his tea pot from the shore, where it rests. As he finished the story, he poured a cup of tea for each of them from the clay depths, his voice hushed. This story was personal to him, and important for some odd reason.

"It is said that if one were a sea-faring man, to watch their way across the sea, lest they his a Tree. Because out there still, floating along, is the largest natural boat ever known to man. The Tree, sailing the Seven Seas on the Current of its friend, the River. The not-end."

The young man sipped his tea gently then, soothing the emotion and memory in a pool of herbs and spices, that flowed down into him, just as the River flowed by them. He waited to hear what the two thought of his story.

@The Admiral @Rook Whisker

 

"Somewhere in the center of the green sea that was the Adecus Forest, there lived a tree. This tree was old, and mighty; one of the oldest of the old trees. It had been there since the beginning, since the first day. It had witnessed the passing of countless nights, and endless days. Under its branches had many adventurers passed, and by its roots countless heroes had rested. The greatest ones were long forgotten to all, but the Tree remembered. It remembered the mighty fires that have raged in the distance, dancing for what seemed to be eons, and the days after where ash fell from the sky like a perpetual snowfall. Still, the Tree remembered the scar that is no longer visible to our eyes, and the joy it felt at not being consumed. And the great sorrow, at seeing so many of the old trees fall. Yet, the Tree found pride in watching so many of the young grow on the bones of its brethren, and shivered with glee when it spotted the tops of great green masses finally rising once more to hide the scorched earth from sight. Now those young saplings were big and tall too, though not as tall as the Tree. Sometimes, it would even be enough to make the Tree feel old. And then the River came."

Akino cleared his throat, for it had become hoarse with emotion. The Tree was a friend to him, as it was to many. An old friend, who never had a problem listening. The River wouldn't stop babbling.

"The River wasn't always a river, of course. It started off as a young stream; a trickle of water that descended from the mountains in search of its own path. And though it was young, it was never quite. All through the days and nights of its journey, it would talk to itself and those it passed by, sharing its tale so far. Often enough, no one wanted to listen to the noisy little streak, and so it decided it would grow big. Big and strong, so everyone would have to stop and listen while they crossed over its body. So it became a brook, and it fell down the hills and over stones, to the green lands below. It had seen many things from up on the mountain, including the fire that had scarred the very forests. Now it was there, among the soot covered grounds, sweeping the life rich substance along with it. It would carry the nutrients and ashes of the fallen across the lands, spreading their bounty. It wanted to do this, because it felt like it should have been there during the might fires that had rocked the forest. If it only had been there, it could have helped! Well now it could."

The River laughed a little, lapping at Akino's ankles with a muted appreciation for their being there on such a day. He touched its surface gently.

"And so the Brook, for it was still a Brook then, raced down over the hills, to the center of the Adecus Forest, into the glade where the Tree sat. A silent giant, a guardian at the base of the steppes from which the Brook had fallen. It was there that the Brook met someone who finally wanted to listen to its tale of long travels. The Tree was old, so very old, and had never seen the world outside of its glade. Through the Brook, it heard tales from far off, through the eyes of one closer to the earth than it had been in years. New friends they were, and happy ones. The Brook loved the Tree so much for listening, and under its watch it grew larger than ever. Growing fat with many rains, and happy for the many tales the friends swapped, the Brook became the River. To show its appreciation, the River gathered the ashes of the fallen ones and brought them down to the Tree, as a gift. The River knew they would make the Tree grow even larger, but the Tree did not want this. Instead, it told the River to become larger and spread the ashes about its glade, so that one day they might not be alone. And so the River did, becoming even wider so that it filled most of the glade as it passed, and the Tree now sat on its mighty shores. And as the River continue to travel along the lands beyond, it always told the Tree what it saw. It passed through towns, and villages, and by a city even. It went through dangerous places, dark places, and places where no soul have ever traveled. And the River and Tree grew together, the River always talking and the Tree always listening. And, together, they brought life to Adecus. Adventurers stopped on the banks of the mighty River, to rest beneath the ancient Tree, and to hear the stories that they shared with one another. It was said that if one listened close enough, they could learn all their was to know of the life and struggle through the two; and if you had a question, they told you to go offer it in meditation to the River and the Tree, and they would help you find the wisdom you sought. And they were happy, and they became good friends. The River gave the Tree much life, and the Tree gave the River many friends who came to listen along the shores."

Looking at the River now, Akino realized it had grown silent, and still as a mirror. It knew the end was coming, maybe it was sad?

"And then the day came when the Mountain fell. It was not something that anyone knew was coming, not even the Tree who had seen so many things. It was not because of God, or the Universe, or Fate. Or maybe it was fate? The River had left its home, you see. And in doing so, the Mountain had lost a part of itself, and had grown weak. The natural balance was shifted, and the life that once thrived their now thrived down below, in the shades of its peaks. And the Mountain grew cold, and alone, and weak. For many days and nights, it watched the River on its journey from stream to impassable body. And now it watched the River and the Tree, happy and together. With all its heart, it wanted to be down there, with the River and the Tree, sharing stories. After all, it was older than the both of them, and it knew many things. Many had walked its back, but still it felt more alone then ever. And all that emptiness, all that loneliness, and all that weakness from the River's absence eventually made the Mountain give in. It crumbled with sadness, following the cut that the River had created in its back. The stones fell, faster and faster, hurtling towards the River. Once they hit, they would dam it up, and it too would die. But the Tree knew this, and so it leaned in the wind with all its might. It leaned, and swayed, and stretched. And it caught the Mountain's stones, just in time. They stopped at the massive roots of the Tree, tearing and crushing them, pulling them from the ground. The Tree began to sway, as boulder after boulder bruised its ancient oaken body. The River tried to catch it, to hold it up, but to no avail. The more it ran about the Tree's roots, trying to lift it, the more the Tree fell towards the River, as if for one final touch. And then it fell over the River, like a blanket, its mighty roots now snaking towards the skies. And the River cried, and called out to the Tree. But the Tree was sleeping the deep sleep now, and couldn't wake up. But the River would not give up, calling out louder. It began to recite stories, the many stories they had shared. And with each story, the River would collide with the Tree with a mighty wave, attempting shake it back to life. But the Tree remained silent, and slumbering. Still the River cried out, harder and harder. Until it remembered one story, the final story. The story of the sea, which the Tree loved most of all. And so the River took the sleeping Tree away then, on a journey the two would never forget. They passed through towns, and villages, and by a city even. They went through dangerous places, dark places, and places where no soul have ever traveled. And then, together, they went out into the sea, for their final adventure. The one that would never end."

Akino walked to the massive hole on the River's shore, where water pooled. And from its center, a small sapling grew. Sitting along the banks of the lake, or Tree Lake as he called it, he rolled the legs of his pants up and dipped his feet in, sighing and watching the various critters that came and went through the meadow that populated the glade. The Tree Lake gave water to many of the wildlife around here, and fish even swam in the lake. One brushed against his foot just then, causing the felis to smile with a glimmer of salty remembrance in his eyes. Looking back to his two friends, he takes his tea pot from the shore, where it rests. As he finished the story, he poured a cup of tea for each of them from the clay depths, his voice hushed. This tale was personal to him, and important for some odd reason.

"It is said that if one were a sea-faring man, to watch their way across the sea, lest they his a Tree. Because out there still, floating along, is the largest natural boat ever known to man. The Tree, sailing the Seven Seas on the Current of its friend, the River. The not-end."

The young man sipped his tea gently then, soothing the emotion and memory in a pool of herbs and spices, that flowed down into him, just as the River flowed by them. He waited to hear what the two thought of his account.

@Rook Whisker @The Admiral

 

The warm balm of the daylight air sat gentle on their skin. Rook listened from where they laid on their back in the soft, springy grass. They could almost imagine the story carved in the white clouds that managed to look as real as they did painted. There was a certain perfection to them that made them feel like fakes, and in truth they were considering the state of their existence at present, but Rook didn't care to think on it for long. Instead the white-haired mage turned their head from the skies to watch their acquaintances and only spoke once during the tale to chime in with, "This one likes the Mountain most. The earth wave tore down all the world to crawl a mile."

They had come here to sit, gathered under a mutual interest in wordplay and the talents of story tellers. Rook, of course, was no story teller in truth. The man they had only just met, Akino as he had said, fancied himself one. The Admiral was a bard through and through. Rook was set apart in just the smallest fashion. Rook didn't tell of what had happened in times past and in places far with people strange. No, they spoke of the future and of things that watched the world spin from just behind the veil between the said world they shared and the domains of other things.

It was odd then, that Akino spoke the way he did. This world within a game had no been living long and so the validity of what he said was something put in question... but then again Rook didn't doubt it or believe it a lie. If they could reach out and feel ancient things that barely saw them or heard their words when they brushed their mana outward, then surely Akino could have spoken to the ghost of the Tree living on in a sapling as a new life. Surely the River could have traveled the world and offered to tell the Felis. "Others beyond the willful chess pieces and half-souls speak to you too?" Rook smiled as their golden eyes drifted from the redhead to the water itself. "A kindly tale, though only a few would hear it. This one will pass it on. Perhaps the Sword-forged Tempest knows the Tree? Perhaps a memory's whisper will soothe it." They rolled onto their stomach and reached out to take their cup of tea, blowing ripples across it and sipping politely while their legs kicked in the air behind them. "Likely not."

The flavor of the tea washed over their words and lingered like the clouds above. Rook was content to let the other speak if they cared to while they nursed their cup. "A bard's echo in encore?" They prompted, urging The Admiral to share a tale of his own.

 

Laying down among the tall blades of grass and swaying reeds, the Admiral enjoyed the feeling of the sunlight upon his body and the calm words of Akino's story upon the air. There was a childish simplicity to it that was attractive, for it lacked the sorts of crushing details most adult stories had and focused purely on the fantasy of a living nature. A reed was pursed between his lips, rolled from side to side in absent minded consideration of the events told, wondering where Akino had heard the story. Perhaps he had made it up himself? But he had never given any sort of indication that he enjoyed a bard's work, so... probably it was part of some oral history.

This Rook fellow, whoever they were, had joined them for tea and talking. They were cute in a concerning sort of way, cryptic in an annoying manner, and had all the mystery and charm of a happy meal. You KNEW there was going to be a prize with whatever talk of theirs you swallowed, but whether it would be the toy you wanted was purely up to chance. Rolling up onto his side, the Admiral inspected both of the others and then spat the reed gently into the grass, brushing himself off as he stood up.

"A story?" he asked, amused at the way that Rook had chosen to phrase the request. The... person... was interesting enough, he had to admit that.
"I might know a story or several hundred. But ah... perhaps something a little less soliloquy of history, and more in tune with... tune. This is a story I made up some time ago, about a a magical blade forged for a powerful would be lord. It's a story of the essence of human nature; and that of the wild fae and unforgiving nature and magic, as well."
Stooping, he hefted a stick up off of the ground and slashed it through the air like a blade, then nodded in satisfaction at the prop.

Holding it out for them to inspect, he ran a hand along it as if it were a gloriously polished blade one ought to admire and, suddenly switched it out for a trash-tier blade from his inventory that he had picked up in a quest some time back. The thing was long and unwieldy but shiny enough, and the sudden transition was a moderately impressive use of showmanship as he suddenly began to sing, moving the blade in slow arcs to demonstrate how the light caught on it.

"Blacksmith, make a sword for me- such as none has ever seen
For ancient symbols of majesty have power in troubled times.
Blacksmith make me a magic sword! One that will make me this valley's lord.
Whom folk will hail with one accord, to save them from their crimes...

Seeing he would not be deterred, the blacksmith took him at his word.
And pondered long on what he'd heard, about this would be lord.
He pumped the fire, and he made his start... melted iron in the fire's heart:
But he named the steel with an older art-

The Elysid Sword.

He chanted words to the blazing mix, of ancient devils' and faeries' tricks;
To draw a spirit, and purpose fix, in what the blade would feel!
The iron laws from nature's land. The ruthless will of magic's hand.
A freedom no one can command - and cast that thought in steel."

Raising the sword, he held it still and high against the sky above for a moment, then set it into the dirt so that it remained standing, buried at its point, ready as if to be drawn by a true hero. But if one had heeded the warning just given, this was not meant to be a story of heroes.

"And when the blacksmith's work was done, the new sword gleamed like the setting sun.
All down it's blade did the old runes run; a warning plain to see!
The steel was grained like the finest wood. A full yard long and more she stood.
The runes read 'I serve but the good... of life and liberty.'

Near the hilt, set in golden wire, a dragon rose up from the pyre-
A copper star its breathing fire, rayed out copper cords!
The grip was like a new dawn made, that clasped a sun in ruby splayed.
In truth like two no other blades...

The Elysid Sword.

'Blacksmith well have you served my cause! This shall aid me to make the laws.
The guards are shaped like a dragon's claws; in truth like none I've seen...
Her price is steep, but I shall not carp; she'll sing more praise than a minstrel's harp!
Yee gods! That blade is razor sharp. For a symbol, very keen.

And cheap she'll be, if I strike you dead' - The blacksmith promptly turned and fled!
The lordling laughed and shrugged instead, and went out to meet his horde.
He cried out 'This is the day foretold; just one hand shall this land now hold.
For in this sign will I rule, behold!'

The Elysid Sword.

'No more argument shall we find, but all hereafter shall be inclined
To just one purpose, and just one mind. Thus do I deem to do!
So go yee forth and take the land!' - The Sword heard well his first command.
She rose and twisted in his hand, then fell, and ran him through.

They say the Sword vanished clean away, for none has heard of it since that day.
But seek it wisely, and find you may. Take care, who would be lord.
Beware you tyrants, beware you fools, for who is the master and who the tool?
You may well serve, but you shall not rule...

The Elysid Sword."

Smiling, he hefted the blade up out of the ground and put it away, then sat in the grass once more to wait for the next performance to begin.
"The events are obviously fictitious," he admitted, scratching at his chin dully.
"I made it up to impress some NPCs, and it seemed to do the trick. I like to tell it, from time to time..."