Pan is drawn to the gardens by the scent of sweet flowers in the moonlight. A swath of silver bathed the night with light, and he danced along the gilded path, deep into the forest and deeper still to this place where the sacred garden lie. Caligo’s followers had done an admirable job of decorating the area, and Pan stops to marvel at each of the twinkling luminarias which light his path. It is a place built for romance, not that the boy has any whimsy or time for such things, but he can still enjoy the quiet beauty of it. For once, he is at a loss for words, not humming or yelling, but simply appreciating the splendor.
Overhead, a pair of morning doves coo and fly in the darkness, a strange thing for night, but they too cannot seem to escape the draw of the festival. He walks along the arched paths, stopping here and there to smell a flower, and as he looks around to see if anyone is paying attention, the gatherer quietly collects a sprig of Alpine Forget-me-Nots, tucking them safely into his bag in case he needed them in the future for healing.
Moving past the floral fields, he finds his way to the center of the garden, stopping next to Caligo’s statue and staring at it carefully. The rock seems old, with many stories to tell – but he does not know the goddess or her lore. Instead, he finds only a beautiful piece of artwork, and gathering a shiny gold pebble from his satchel, he lays it at the base. After all, even as an unknowing visitor to this land, there is something regal about the face which stares down at him… and Pan knew such things were rarely a coincidence. Never one to toy with lore, he waits, to see if someone can explain the statue further.
She has finally made her way back to the mountain pass, where she first met Asterion and helped to rebuild Denocte. But it is different now. There are flowers and moonlight and things here are more beautiful than she remembers. She meanders the paths, looking at the ivy and how it guides her path towards the Sacred Gardens. She relishes this time with thoughts to herself. It’s quiet reflection that she feels she needs.
But while she wanders she too finds the Alpine Forget-Me-Nots and has made a mission to gather supplies from each court that might help her in her quest to aid and protect. She tucks the flowers within her mane, saving them for later.
The path finally leads to an art gallery, filled with paintings and mosaics. It is beautiful here and at the center, a statue of Caligo. The goddess that she does not know or understand. The goodness who hid her wrath in a storm of lightning and fury.
She is not the only one there. She sees another staring at the statue and she comes to stand beside him, her size causing her to overshadow him. But she comes in peace, she always does. “She is Denocte’s Goddess…though I am not sure she is worthy.” Katniss had always been a faithful follower, but this goddess does not appear to be a goddess worth her worship. Perhaps she is only skeptical be cause she met the goddess in a time of tribulation. Perhaps this was her clue that she should have more faith. Perhaps this stallion has more than she does.
The boy is curious as Katniss approaches, turning to watch her with a soft sort of smile. His grin widens as he takes in the flowers in her mane, thinking of those which he’d tucked safely into his bag for safekeeping, as he sidesteps over to let her stand beside him. Together, they look upon Denocte’s statue and goddess. His pebble shines in the moonlight, a well-intentioned offering from a child who has little more to give… but the stranger’s words ring in his mind. Not worthy? Certainly there was a story to be told here…
Why? the boy asks Has she done something wrong? For surely enough, Pan saw the world as black and white. If the goddess wasn’t worthy of her subject’s loyalty, she must have abandoned or wronged them. Still, he leaves the pebble at the statue’s base, just to be safe. What is her name? he follows up, with an innocent question. I’m Pan, by the way.
Beneath the moonlight, the scaled child’s eyes are bright and eager with curiosity. A part of him longs to be back with the party, dancing in the throngs of others to the beat of a gypsy song… but there is a part of him who longs more, to understand. Pan was always one to be drawn toward knowledge and learning, and of course… to stories. And so, in the moonlight, he waits with anticipating breath for Katniss to spin him a tale of betrayed loyalty, and the goddess of night.
Had Caligo done anything wrong? What hadn’t she done? Despite the fact that Katniss was still relatively new to Novus, she had only a brief encounter with Caligo and it had not been that exciting. Gods and Goddesses were supposed to be mighty and powerful. They were supposed to lead and commend worship. What she had seen was a Goddess who asked her people to fight a battle for her and then she disappeared. Perhaps it was the warrior in her that disliked the Goddess. While Katniss had never been a very faithful creature, she did respect leadership when she saw it. She simply did not see it with Caligo.
It was the other’s words that grabbed her attention. She sighed softly, not wanting to burden the innocent bystander about her hesitancy with the way Caligo had left them. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, trying to offer the truth but not paint Caligo to be a horrible goddess. “Not wrong, per say. She simply has us fight her battles for her - only to disappear. It simply leave a bad taste in my mouth.” Perhaps her feelings of Caligo were skewed and perhaps she didn’t know the whole story since she was so new. She would be willing to give the Goddess another chance. After all, Katniss had always been about giving second chances.
He asks about her name and she offers him a soft smile. “Caligo.” The name feels strange and foreign on her tongue, but she states it out loud anyway. Perhaps Isra should have been the one to discover Pan. Perhaps she could have granted him a much finer tale than she would ever be able to tell.
He introduces himself as Pan and she looks to him with that sort of looks that speaks of friendship and compassion. “Welcome to Denocte, Pan. My name is Katniss.” She says nothing more to him, she only sighs and looks up to the moonlight. As the clouds pass by, the moonlight illuminates her scars that tell far more stories than she could ever have the time for.
The child smiles, unknowing of the world and the way that it worked. He was an eternal optimist, always looking for the next rainbow on the horizon – always wanting to see the world as it should be instead of as it was. When she speaks of Caligo, Pan nods understandingly. He can see where it could be frustrating not to see the gods, not to know what they thought. But it was the gods that granted the lands to them… and they entrusted their kingdoms to the care of mortals. This alone, Pan supposed, made them worthy of worship. He wouldn’t mind fighting for something he believe in… and home was a pretty good reason to fight.
I knew a god once… he gasped, for this is the first moment that Pan remembers anything of his old life. His name was No… and he was a grumpy old codfish. The lesser god of Water. Excitement causes the boy to speak faster, his words jumbled together as he remembers the way the kelpie would hover just beneath the surface of the water, his eyes watching Pan with a mild sense of annoyance. But No had liked the boy – to be honest, it was hard not to. He’d never admit it though.
He sent me on a quest to find his bird… and he gave me some healing tokens after. Grinning, the boy felt pride in remembering this small tidbit. Perhaps it was the first of many memories to break through – he could at least hope.
As they stand beneath the darkness, Pan gives one more glance to the goddess before gathering up his satchel, making a vow to learn more about Caligo… but now, he was more interested in the mortal who told him of her escapades. Katniss. She had said her name was Katniss. Stepping closer to her, he takes note of her scars, concern rising in his expressive green eyes. Someone hurt you? he asks innocently, stepping forward to press his teacup muzzle against one of her larger silver scars, oblivious to the fact that his observation and touch may be unwanted. What is this from?
When the child-like individual speaks, Katniss is quiet as she listens. She does enjoy the story-telling of others, Isra has seen to that. At first Isra’s stories had seemed like a waste of time, but the more she listened to them, the more she realized that there was a truth to them. Each story contained an Easter Egg of information if she was only willing to listen. So now, as Pan speaks, she listens attentively.
He speaks of knowing a God, No. It was a strange name for a God, but she supposed she had heard of worse. He claimed to be the lesser god of water. Oh how Katniss wished she could meet him! As the daughter of a kelpie, she had been born with the ability to breathe underwater and of how she had missed it!
As Pan continued, she shifted her thoughts back onto the boy’s talk of a quest. After all, she didn’t want to appear disinterested or ignoring him. She was simply thinking back and wishing she had her ability to breathe beneath the water. He says that the god gave him healing tokens. While she had never hear of such a thing before, she supposed those tokens were currency for something. “And what did you buy with your tokens?” a healing power? A salve? Surely it was something grand.
His attention seemed to shift quickly, as if he was unable to focus on one topic for too long. She supposed she had felt that way once or twice before, so it was not surprising. What was surprising, however, was the topic he had shifted to. Her. Katniss had never been one to talk about herself, unless of course it had been with Metaphor.
Pan steps closer to her, letting his muzzle press against her scars as he asks if someone had hurt her. She sighed softly. “Many someones.” Each scar by a different individual. Each scar was a story about a war, a battle, an enemy. It was a heavy topic for an individual as innocent as Pan. So when he asks what it is from, she sighs softly. “I am a warrior - most are from a battle won or lost.” Truthfully, she didn’t remember getting her scars. She never remembered which individual gave her which scars - only the scars on her heart which Pan would never be able to see. Only Metaphor knew of those scars, and that was how she intended for it to be. To everyone else, her heart was blocked off, locked away.
Pan found a certain romance to the idea of being a warrior. In another life, he’d dreamed of being a fearless knight like the ones in his books. He dreamed of adventures, damsels in distress, and gallant quests. But war was seldom as romantic as the books made it out to be. It was a bloody and dangerous sport, one which Pan could little more stomach than truly excel at. He is a creature destined to seek peace before war. In truth, Pan couldn’t really understand what made others want to spar and fight each other. After all, if everyone just got along, there would be no need for such things. So the boy made it his mission in life to be kindly to all who he met (even if he did talk a big talk about pirates and knights).
The tokens could heal any wound… and we used them, in the war… there, he’d remembered something else. Shuddering as the scent of blood on snow came to mind, he remembered one particular moment, where he’d thrust the shiny pebble turned token against the dead boy… but not even No’s powers were strong enough to cheat death. No, the boy had simply remained cold and gone against the battlefield. A stark reminder that Pan wished he could forget again.
Shaking away the feeling of overwhelming grief at the memory, he turned his attentions back to Katniss. I would have used them to help you… but I don’t have them now. I’m still a healer, but now I heal with plants. I can help, if you ever need it… just call for Pan, and I’ll be there. Like a salesman peddling his wares, he offers the assistance shamelessly and openly to whoever needed it. After all, healing wasn’t something he could offer to some and not all. Pan couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting, let alone his new friend Katniss. Do you think you’ll fight some more?
She had met many healers in her time, healers that could stop bleeding and heal broken bones. However, she had yet to find anyone who could bring back the dead. Many considered such an art dangerous and only something that dark magic could accomplish, but so many times she had wished she could bring back the lives of those who had given their lives for her. Those lives needed to be repaid. It was a debt they could never truly repay.
But when he offers her his healing powers, she nods her head softly to him and she knows he’s being genuine. It had been a long time since someone so genuine had come along. “I’ll be sure to remember that, Pan. Thank you for offering your help.” Perhaps she might need his help at some point. While she could normally got along fine by herself, it never hurt to have a back up plan.
It was his question that has her looking curiously at him. He seemed so innocent, much like a child who’s never truly seen or lived in the world. While his body was in an adult’s body, his mind was that of a child. There was something innocent about it. “I like to hope that one day I won’t need to fight, but I will always protect and fight for those I care about.” She would continue to lay down her life for others. After all, that was who she was.
Pan smiled as the warrior mare validated his desire to help. Perhaps she was just indulging the boy, but it made him feel important, and he puffed his chest out and stood a little straighter at the thought. This is why he had made a decision to be a healer… for despite all his talk of knights and chivalry, Pan couldn’t bring himself to harm another creature.
A long time ago, he’d come up against a dragon intent on destroying his home… and though there was a dark magic in the fire-breathing beast, and madness had addled its’ brain, Pan had still had a hard time attacking it. He’d done it, of course… but only because it meant protecting those he loved. But damn if he didn’t still have nightmares of the day he’d harmed another. It was quite clear in that moment, that Pan had been cut from a different sort of cloth. His talents lie in helping… that, and storytelling.
They say that love is worth fighting for, no matter the cost… no matter the risk. It was an insightful thing for the boy to come up with, particularly when so many things he’d spoken were child-like. But there is an honesty and an innocence to his words, and Pan’s eyes were wide with understanding far beyond his years. I understand… home is a thing worth fighting for. He smiled then, finding a kindred moment with Katniss as he dug into his satchel and drew out something for her too. Here, I want you to have this, to remember me by.
It was a spotted rock, round and mousey brown, worn smooth by the tides. On one side is a strange etching, the appearance of a single wave carved deep into the rock. One of No’s tokens… he explained. It doesn’t work, I don’t think… but it helps me to remember. Perhaps it will remind you to call for me, if you need my help. Turning toward the North, the boy looked back at his new friend, memorizing her face and hoping that he wouldn’t forget her as he had so many others. Perhaps she would find her way into his dreams as well… or maybe the tides were turning for Pan and his memory losses. Time would tell.
It’s nice to meet you, Katniss. I live in the North… just follow the river. And, go easy on Caligo. He glances back at the statue, and his token gleaming gold in the moonlight. Maybe she’ll surprise you… And with that, the boy leaves the Night Court and the gallery behind, eager to learn more about the lore of this place as he explored what secrets it held.
@Katniss - wrapping this one up but he's always game for more threads. if you're collecting herbs, they could go look together if you want... lots of options.
02-15-2019, 03:50 PM
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Katniss was curious about this fellow, Pan as he called himself. The individual was child-like in his mannerisms and his words, and yet, he surprised her all the same. When he said that love was worth fighting for, she briefly wondered what he knew of love. She wondered if he had ever loved in his lifetime. At any rate, the words he spoke were far truer than she probably cared to admit. Now that she had Metaphor, he was most definitely worth fighting for. In fact, she’d do anything for that man - anything.
She watches as he pulls something out of his satchel. She watches him curiously, listening as he offers her something to remember him by. In the back of her mind, she knows that Pan is one of those that she will never forget. He’s unique and goes against the grain. How could she forget him? But, she takes the rock he offers, listening as he explains that it’s one of the tokens his God had given him. “Thank you, Pan. I shall cherish it always.” She would keep this rock near the small table in her “home” in Denocte. It would serve as a constant reminder that there were others that were here to help, much as she was.
Eyes watch him as he turns towards the north. She knows that look, she’s seen it many times before. Their meeting would be but a brief one, but one she would never forget. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Pan.” Her words are soft, soothing even. Ears listen as he explains where he’s from - Dusk court, she presumes. While she’s never had a need to venture there, perhaps she might in the future.
But it was his warning that catches her by surprise, his warning to go easy on Caligo. What did he know of the goddess? But she simply smiles at him as he claims that just maybe she might surprise her. And then he’s leaving and Katniss watching his retreat for a moment before her eyes turn back to the statue. She ponders his words silently for a moment, before she too begins to leave the gallery and head back home.
