The shadows of the late evening reached and stroked his sides, almost hiding him in their embrace. Startling icy blue eyes stood out against the tones of smooth gray and black. Jarek had come to the spring festival in search of fate. The fate that had breached his existence since he had seen her here, in this very field not so long ago. The unnamed beauty that had sparked an electric response within his being. It had since grown to a certainty, the dreams he had been experiencing only becoming more vivid as the night crawled closer.
In his dreams, they ran together on smooth desert sands. Running together in perfect formation, running towards their lives together. The moon above watched them, and often they gazed at the stars and the gods that had blessed their very meeting. Swirling desert gods formed in the sand and the skies to herald this new chapter in history. There were many of them, sometimes they melded together, changed or disappeared. They were a constant shifting force of mystery, much like the sands themselves.
Jarek had worked hard to create something he felt would catch her attention. Perhaps to show her how deeply they could be connected on a mental level. He felt it in her bones that this was something she would enjoy. The fine drape and the leatherbound book he had crafted for her. What she would write in its pages would be up to the mystery woman. His chest stirred with excited anticipation to discover what else they would learn together. He felt like he had just woken up properly for the first time, the first night of the rest of his life. He hoped that by the next sunrise that they would be closer together.
He breathed deeply, he reminded himself that he had seemingly startled her the last time they met. She had found her escape from his overbearing revelation. He struggled to contain his emotions in the moment, but he kept the forced cool outer exterior he had been trained with. His spiritual journey and that of his warrior training mingled into a confusing state of confidence and quiet self containment.
He moved smoothly and with focus, his eyes examining each mare he moved past looking for her. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once. He stood beside a central fire-pit sighing softly. He had never been so encaptured and infatuated with anyone before. It had felt truly fated that he had seen her. It definitely wasn't a coincidence that had led him to that moment. He suspected that the journey to Novus had been entirely driven by the gods to lead him to meeting the stranger. If he was right, she had to be here somewhere.
The festival had been everything that Torielle could have possibly imagined. The multicoloured tents, the vendors with their wares, the joyous sounds of children playing and souls from all walks of life coming together in celebration. While there was still a secret part of her that felt the sour tug of homesickness, the overall experience lifted a weight that had been smothering. As the sun sank into the horizon, it scattered golden rays across the landscape casting a blanket of warm hues. Soon there would be nightfall, and with it, the moonlit dance.
The mare cast her gaze over to the designated bonfire area, where the denizens of Delumine had placed smooth stone as a way to protect the lush greenery from the flame. It also served a dual purpose, providing even ground for those who choose to participate in the dance. She had been glancing at it all day, wandering the temporary shop fronts with her friend, eager for the dance to begin. It had been an age since she had indulged in a bonfire dance and the itch in her bones would not be satisfied until she danced the night away.
It had not been so long ago that the fields they stood upon now had been filled with snow and ice and strangers. With the fresh shoots of spring and the scents of baked goods now filling the air, it chased those thoughts away before she could dwell on them. The area had been transformed almost completely, and she knew that once the festivities were over there would be little trace that it had occurred at all, save for perhaps the circle of the bonfire, which would grow over and disappear in time for the following spring. It was almost startling how easily mother nature would reclaim that which was hers, mending the scars that were left behind by the creatures who lived upon her hallowed grounds.
If only the heart could heal so quickly, so seamlessly. Lost in her reverie, like a ghost emerging from the shadows, she spotted him. The dame hadn’t even allowed herself to think on him, and yet he appeared, as if summoned. As if by fate. There was a lurch in her heart, now heavy with uncertainty. She stared openly for a long moment before steeling herself, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before she would be spotted, even among the crowd of other attendees with beautiful scarves and jingling bells.
Torielle turned to her stardusted friend, excusing herself, trying to hold back the panic at the thought of leaving the relative safety of another woman in exchange for the hulking beast. It was better to make the first move, to control this situation as best as she could. At least this time there were witnesses and it would be easier to slip away if she needed.
Each step closer to the stallion was heavier, her heart thrumming in her chest, the anticipation at a near breaking point. When they had last spoken in this very same land, she had run from him. Jarek, and his strange ways, his words of prophecy from gods she did not know. This brute who, as much as she wanted to ignore it, looked too much like her father. The interaction had been overwhelming and the mare hadn’t known how to respond then- truthfully she didn’t know how to respond now. She’d mulled over their last encounter only a handful of times in the interim and had never made sense of it. The Sages would have told her to accept the divine intervention and wholeheartedly give in. Something about that insistence of blind faith bothered her. But she had said that if they were fated to meet as his gods had spoken, then they would do so again. It should have been no surprise that he would seek her here. Maybe she should have provided additional caveats, like a particular lunar phase, or conjunction of the stars. Though, the stallion had been very determined, even then- he probably would have found a way to find her regardless of the obstacles she had put in his way.
The only way to move past this uncomfortable prickle along her spine, this uncertainty that Jarek brought with him, would be to confront it and move forward. His head turned, scanning the crowd and the maiden knew that he would see her coming, even if the festival muffled the sound of her bells, the chime that signaled her approach wherever she roamed. Torielle came to a stop a respectable distance away, taking a deep breath into her shaking bodice, trying to empty herself of the unease that sought to pull her limbs out from under her. She was being entirely irrational.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said, trying to be coy and playful, but her vocals could not shake the tension that coursed through her body.
He was staring into the distance as she approached, his mind lost in the thoughts of his dreams and pursuits. He heard the jingling of the bells and the familiar scent of her, it drew his thoughts back to the present. The shill excitement in his chest fluttered again, she was here and she had found him. He didn’t need to know her name to feel as though he already knew her. He had after all spent the remaining time of winter dreaming of searching for her, or running together. Her scent had been wild and enticing in his dreams, but reality was all the more overwhelming.
He shifted his gaze towards her as she approached closer. “Fancy that, indeed.” he replied softly, taking in wholly the image of her. She was more beautiful than what his memory had done justice. He felt a nervous tension welling within him, he needed to not fuck this up. How easily he had screwed things up last time, caused his anxiety to race. They were however destined to be together, and the gods had clearly shown that to him. He believed that they were sending the dreams of her and of their future together to clearly ensure that he meets her again.
The mystery woman had so wholly captured his being. Had she thought of him while they were apart? It really didn’t matter, he hoped she had at least considered what they had spoken about. He felt an overwhelming pressure to immediately give the gift to her. But what if it was too much and she would be pushed away again? His voice felt foriegn and rougher than it ever had before, he’d had training to secure his emotions from the world - but the anxiety was edging itself through by knifepoint.
“I have a gift for you.” he said as softly as he could manage with his husky voice. He produced the leather bound book wrapped in the veil he had worked so hard to craft. Holding it with his telekinesis he extended it slowly towards her. The firelight catching the beetle decorations and sending beautiful lights shining across the fine white fabric. He was unused to feeling so vulnerable. He had never cared so much about an interaction with anyone. He struggled to find a means to communicate that without scaring her, without it being too overwhelming.
The rest of the festival had immediately faded into obscurity with her company. It was as though the rest of time stood still and this very moment was the only one that mattered. The sounds of folks dancing and enjoying themselves blended into a shrill nothingness. He tried not to stare, but he could hardly break his gaze. The slight jingling of her bells and their breathing was all he could hear, it was all he wanted to hear.
The brute’s own unease put her on edge- what did he have to be nervous of? The tension between the two of them was palpable, not unlike school children unsure of how to act when confronted with a strange romantic situation. That’s what this was, after all- a strange romance. Dictated by gods, apparently. None that Torielle knew, but gods all the same. Unless Jarek was delusional and these gods that spoke to him and directed his motives were but voices in his head. The mare hadn’t considered that dangerous alternative.
She shifted nervously under his gaze, as he appraised her like cattle bought at auction. Was that her own mind playing tricks on her? Was his intent really so hungry as she made it out to be, or was it her own lack of understanding that placed a deviousness in him that was not there? The woman dipped her crown, averting her gaze so that she would not accidentally meet his cold vision. The fact this stallion was a shadow of her father was unsettling, and she wasn’t sure if that was something she would ever be able to rectify within herself.
The tumultuous spin of homesickness coloured with dread sank deep into her gut as the silence stretched between them. The festival seemed so very far away now, a distant hum in the background of their encounter. She wanted nothing more than to flee back to it, to the safety of the crowds, of her friend. The doe stood her ground, however. She would not be able to move past these feelings if she did not move through them. Jarek had proven if he wanted to pursue her, and clearly he did, that he would do just that- pursue.
Torielle sucked in a tense breath as he spoke, proffering a delicate package. Her sense of curiosity overtook her caution and her audits pricked forward. A gift? She took the parcel very carefully, examining it in the dying light of the sun, the glow of the bonfire behind his hulking figure dancing across the intricate beadwork.
The veil itself was of exceptional make, near artisanal quality. The fabric was light as a feather, an iridescent shimmer to the pure colour, decorated with remnants of some colour-shifting insect. There did not seem to be any particular pattern in the way it was stitched, but the varying hues reminded the mare of a desert oasis, a mirage shimmering in the distance. As she inspected it further there was a realization that it held only one scent- his.
She had spent the better part of the day trying on several different silks and jewels with Veil Nebula, and all of them held some marking of the people who had come before them. They smelled of the crafter, of the travel they had made, of every other person in attendance who had wrapped them around their shoulders or experimentally wove them through their hair. This veil held no complex notes of several beings, but rather only the distinct tone of the stallion that loomed before her.
The silk wrap was not the only item he had given her. The tome was weighty, filled with pages that sang of fresh woodland air and covered in a leather that begged to be stroked. The skin was white as snow, embroidered with images of the night sky carefully recreated on both front and back. The inside held blank pages, clearly crafted to be used however the scholar saw fit. This, too, only carried the scent of the stallion, matched by the perfume of the book itself.
Torielle finally lifted her gaze to Jarek in awe, her stance relaxing for the first time since their initial meeting. “You made these?” She asked, her voice airy. “I’ve hardly seen such beautiful craftsmanship outside my own tribes, or highly skilled artisans.”
Though the mare still held some reservations, and the situation surrounding the stallion was still far too odd for her to reconcile it over a handful of meetings, this show of tenderness had been unexpected. The discipline it took to harvest materials and shape them in such a way as to create the beautiful items before her… It was hard to grasp. The time he would have needed to spend stitching, binding… He would have needed to begin his work shortly after their first encounter.
Part of that set of alarm bells in her mind. What kind of stallion would devote himself to such intensive work over a woman he had just met? The gods. The answer was simple. He truly believed that she was a gift from the divine, and he would show his appreciation and woo her by whatever means were necessary. The maiden was unsure what to make of that conclusion, instead holding the items very carefully, considering them before draping the veil across her shoulders, tucking it under her hair so that it would not float away as she moved about the festival.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure what else to say.”
With the positive reception of his gift he felt his anxiety strip away piece by piece. She appeared to appreciate the gift and hadn't turned heel and retreated. So all in all, he considered this a minor victory. He could somewhat appreciate her discomfort and concerns. He understood that he could be a foreboding figure and that it could be intimidating. As well as some of the aspects of his divine message were startling. But he had never felt such a raw connection to another creature, it was this deeper level that made him sure the desert gods had chosen them for each other. He was as much destined for her, as she was for him. They would be two parts, when together they were whole. He knew she would see this eventually.
“It’s my pleasure to craft these for you” he replied softly to her thanking him. His ears pointing forwards and listening to her talk further. He had shifted his weight and a soft sigh of contentment had escaped his lips and he allowed himself to relax.
He wanted to tell her about his dreams. To tell her about the adventures they had already been on together in his sleep. How far and how passionately they had run together. That the gods themselves had reconnected with him in his sleep. He had felt so starved of their connection before meeting her. Meeting her was the catalyst that drove the connection deeper. It was all surely a sign of their fated destiny. Woven intricately together like the strands of the veil itself.
“May I know your name?”he asked as softly as he could in his gavelled voice. She didn’t feel like a stranger to him, but he didn’t know what she was to be called by. Jarek felt like he knew each fiber of her hair and each beat of her heart, like they were remeeting after being apart for an eon. He couldn’t just keep thinking of her as the mysterious mare. He needed to know what her name was.
Jarek had never felt such an intimate pull, or such a fierce drive within him before. He had been with others before, and had others express interest in him. But nothing had ever quite meshed properly. He had always felt a great dissatisfaction; a restless itching that bored itself deep within his being. Each moment with her was electrifying, while also feeling the concern that she could slip from his grasp at any moment. He hoped that in time she would come to appreciate and see that the gods had truly driven them together. The work they would complete together would be miraculous and previous; he only hoped Novus was ready for them.
He was relaxing at least, and that made it a little less intimidating, a little less frightening. Maybe it shouldn’t have put her at some level of ease- the whole situation was just outlandish, really. She’d never met another person quite like Jarek. She had encountered bold, brash, and inconsiderate, had tangled with a variety of souls who believed the world owed them everything. Never had the mare encountered someone who believed the gods gifted them strangers, and she wondered briefly if this was an elaborate ploy and merely something he did to impress any woman he happened to meet. Torielle preferred that idea, lest she be the only object of his affection. The thought that she might not be the only one was somewhat soothing, even if it wasn’t something she could prove.
The mare shifted uncomfortably as he asked for her name, unable to meet his gaze. In the several lives she had traveled, the mare had encountered more than her fair share of fae creatures and had adopted some of their customs over time; the ones that made sense to her, anyways. There was a great power that lay in knowing one’s name, and it was rarely something to be given lightly. Some believed it to “give” a name was like giving over one’s self to the fae creature in question. ‘May I have your name’ was the same thing as to say ‘may I have you?’ While Torielle had few qualms about sharing her name with some of the denizens of Novus, she had done so with caution. ‘You may call me by’ provided them a moniker to use without granting them the same power, and yet the mare was apprehensive about doing even that much with Jarek. He had asked to ‘know her name’ and that felt too close to asking to know her, intimately. The question sat uneasily in her chest as she debated what to tell him.
The doe cast a look over her shoulder, hoping to look to Veil for some kind of confirmation on what to do, to know that her friend was still there. As she did, she saw the star woman speaking with a cloaked figure. It must have been the tail end of the conversation, as they both moved away across the festival to pursue the fruits of that interaction. Torielle’s gut twisted, hard. The realization that she was now alone, and would have to face this stallion alone swallowed her whole.
She’d only had the confidence to confront him in this space because it was so busy, because she’d had her friend nearby, because it had felt safe. Now, with Jarek next to the bonfire, though the festival swirled on around them, she could not have felt more isolated. The mare shifted her weight, trying to keep the look of panic from surfacing, to not look like a prey-thing before this predatory man.
“You..” she started, her heart hammering in her chest. Would this look like the hesitation of passion? Would he believe that she was flustered due to his kindness? Would he know that she was terrified of him knowing her name, of knowing her?
“You may call me Torielle,” she said quietly, the lyrics strangled as she desperately fought the desire to keep her name her own. There was no turning back now. He would know whom to call if he saw her across a crowded room. Would know who to ask after if he felt the need to find her somewhere new. Who to beg the gods for guidance in dealing with. Whose name to call in the throws of lonely passion when dream inevitably came and she was not at his side. A shiver coursed through her, chilling the mare to the bone.
She wanted to bolt, but with Veil now preoccupied, she wasn’t sure if she could just leave. The woman cast her gaze about, swallowing the rising panic once more, looking for any kind of out, desperate for some reason to break off this conversation. Her blue pools came to rest upon a large tent filled with merry makers, lit with bright lanterns and blessedly full of people. Salvation.
Her gaze turned back to Jarek, speaking rather quickly now. “Thank you, ah… for the gifts. But I had plans to meet with someone, so I really must be going, now.” Much akin to their first meeting, she did not give him much, if any, time to respond before turning on her heels and disappearing before his eyes. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest and she would not find sweet relief until she could no longer feel his eyes burning holes into her spine.
Her inability to meet his gaze stirred discomfort within his chest. He had just been starting to feel like events were going to change for the better, and now this only confirmed he was wrong. She had accepted his gift, but maybe she didn’t like it as much as he thought she would. It had given him hope to see her sling it across her neck, it was as beautiful upon her as he had imagined.
Hearing her words delayed when directed at him, made him feel as though he was about to be judged. That he would be forced to atone for all his previous mistakes. It felt as though time had frozen in that very moment and he stood and waited for his sentence to be passed. Was she about to tell him he could rightly go jump off a cliff for daring to ask her such a question?
But no, there it was she finished her sentence and finally he had words to call her by. It seemed just as quickly as he had gotten this new tantalizing piece of information she was fleeing him once more. Her rapid speech allowed him to piece together that she was still uncomfortable and would rather not be around him. He dared not speak her name, as she seemed distracted and uncomfortable.
“My pleasure, enjoy the rest of your evening.” he said softly in his graveled voice as he watched her leave, unsure if she would even hear his reply. Just as quickly as she seemed to be within grasp she had disappeared amongst the crowds with a jingling of bells. There was clearly something not quite right. She didn’t seem to appreciate what it was he had to offer. He felt like if only he could let her see what he could see for them, then maybe she would understand.
He would be persistent, but they were fated; it would only be a matter of time before the gods drew them closer. For now, he would ensure as best as he could that she was safe. He needed to learn more about the way this land operated. His mind regurgitated her speech back in slow motion. She had been planning on meeting someone here. But who and for what? There was little chance he would find her now in these crowds, and pursuing her felt like it would only make her run. Was the whole issue that she already loved another?
What they would have would stretch beyond what was reasonable for normal mortals to experience. A connection so deep that the gods themselves had yearned for it to be formed. Galloping together through space and time, to be together now. The dreams he had experienced of them running together, in instride mentally and physically. Oneday it would happen, he would need to be patient and it seemed there were yet some things he needed to figure out. Why exactly did she want to avoid him?
