forum “Mystery is art, don’t you know?” (OxO, Mature, Closed)

Started May 29 by @Serpentess health_and_safety language

tune

His eyes were patient as she jumped and sputtered. At her question, his mischievous grin softened a little.

“I am an individual of many abilities. And, yes, I was in your mind, though only on the surface. I have encountered few like ourselves, and thus it be fascinating to see what others can do,”he responded casually.

He had omitted quite a few things in his explanation, but she didn’t need to know them just yet. Mostly the parts regarding his non-human, otherworldly nature and that Earthly humans seemed to have considerably less access to magic than those of his homeworld.

“How many abilities?” Meg asked, narrowing her eyes at having him in her head. She wasn't really angry… well maybe a little, mostly she was annoyed and a little skeptical of Amrien now. But the fact that he had said, his version of, “like us” stirred up all kinds of emotions.

“And how many have you met who can… do things like this?” she added since she actually had a lot of questions now. And the fact that he probably knew what those questions were was… again she didn't know how she felt about all this.

Nwalan tilted his head at her question, both amused and thoughtful.

“I have never counted my abilities,”he mentioned.

Her next question made him pause. Did he dare say the truth, or should he lie? He quickly decided the former, remembering what De’Tearion used to tell him. That it was better to omit than to lie. Well, he couldn’t omit anything without being obvious, so the truth it was.

“In my homeland, many. Outside of my homeland, you are the fifth. Though… each encounter be separated by many years,”he answered.

He added,“Also, I know you have questions, and I know you suspect me of already knowing them, yet I know them not. I am only brushing the very top of your mind. Barely peeking through the window, if you will. If I wished to, I could reach into the deepest parts of your mind, yet I refrain out of courtesy. This be the first interesting conversation I have had in a few years, and reading the depths of your mind would cut this moment too short.”

Meg sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, at the answer. She wasn't surprised by the information but it was still something she would have to wrap her head around. She was obviously not used to someone being able to read her, much less her mind, but that thought made her chuckle. Was this how other people felt when she said things about them when they had never met before?

“Ok, let me see if I got this. You're from an island where most have some kind of abilities, and you've been traveling for a long time. At least you have some respect for others' mental privacy but that's not all you can do.” she listed. “And my “ability” to read people isn't a surprising one to you, probably because of your telepathy, but for some reason… I can't read you. I can pick up some things but not much. Is Armien even your real name?”

Nwalan waited patiently as she considered his answer, among other things. He then hummed at her list.

“Half of the island, approximately, has abilities. Otherwise, you are quite accurate,”he said.

He paused when she mentioned she couldn’t read him, then hesitated at her question.

“Well… No. Yet, Amrien be my favorite alias. You cannot read me?”Nwalan wondered.

It made some sense that she couldn’t read him, given that most of what she knew was from what he’d told her. It was still confusing though. Was it his inhuman nature that made him so difficult to read? His telepathy? His power? His magic was quite potent, even though he was relatively young. Though, he already knew the reason why, and it wasn’t something he liked dwelling on. Being the equivalent of royalty wasn’t always the grandest of situations.

Meg nodded at the correction and sighed. An entire island with half the population being like him… and maybe a little like her? She wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was interesting, no mistake, but did what she was able to do count?

"I didn't think the name Armien quite fit you." she admitted with a slight smirk. "It's… close so you probably use it often but it's not really you. Does that make sense?" she asked, hoping he understood her explanation.

"Not really." she answered, shaking her head. "Like I said, I can pick up some things about you but I can't get as much detail from you as I can from anyone else. It's weird and definitely a first for me. I just… I'm not the only one in my family who could do this. My dad… his brother… I didn't start being able to do this until…" the memory of that moment froze her words in her throat. It was still painful to think of even though it had been years since then. She closed her eyes and let the scene reply in her mind simply so that he could see it.

She was a young teenager, much brighter, and arm-in-arm with an older man who looked so much like her. Same brown eyes, same sharp features… without question, the man was her father. It was dark and they had a couple of bags full of groceries when another man stepped out in front of them. His face was blurred due to her not remembering him. What was in sharp, clear focus was the gun that was pointed at her father. The memory blurred again until she and her father were in an ambulance, her father covered in blood…

Nwalan realized that his correction hadn’t really helped clarify the situation of his island home. The human population only had some magic practitioners, but the non-human population almost always did.

He nodded at her words, confirming that he both understood and did use the name Amrien a lot. He then listened as she explained more about her ability, watching her offered memory as well.

Though Nwalan could easily clear up the blurred spots in Meghan’s memory, he wasn’t that cruel. Not when he understood the implications, the pain, the grief. It reminded Nwalan of his own grief, the agony of…

Nwalan’s hands started to shake and his left hand flickered like a glitchy image. He quickly realized what was happening and he withdrew completely from Meghan’s mind, hiding his hand and looking around to make sure no one else had seen it.

“How much longer will you be here to display your art? If you wish to know more about me, we will need a more private place to speak. Also, the tapestries in the next room be calling me,”Nwalan asked, chuckling shyly at his tapestry comment.

He was hoping the humor would distract himself from the swirling emotions in his head, but it didn’t always work. He needed quiet and calm, a space to meditate for a second. Where better than a room full of lovely, lovely tapestries?

Meg gently wiped the stray tears from the memory and looked back at Armien. She could tell that he understood and that he had seen what she wanted him to. It was a little surprising how much that memory still hurt but her father had been a very important role in her life. She couldn't forget him.

She cleared her throat at the change of topic and nodded. “I'm here as long as I want to be but I think I’ve been around my own art for long enough.” she smiled a little. “I wouldn't mind continuing our conversation and seeing some different exhibits.” she chuckled as he mentioned the tapestries and nodded again.

Nwalan watched her wipe away her tears, once again reminded of his own sorrows. Part of him wondered how much had changed since he’d left the island. The other part didn’t dare wonder.

He smiled softly at her reply, then chuckled and gestured toward the tapestry exhibit.

“Shall we, then?”he asked suavely.

His left wrist flickered, but he made sure to keep his arm tucked close to his body so that the sight wouldn’t become a spectacle. He didn’t need to be run out of the city for being… well… inhuman.

Meg smiled at his Old World gentlemanly behavior, though she raised a brow when she caught a glimpse of his hand. It was hard to make out exactly what was happening so she decided to ask him once they were more alone. She assumed it was tied to one of his abilities and therefore not a good idea to draw attention to it in front of all these people.

“So, what is it about tapestries that you enjoy so much?” she asked, keeping a more pleasant and normal conversation going as they headed to the exhibit.

Nwalan noted her raised eyebrow, suspecting that she had discovered his wrist. He didn’t mention anything about it though, preferring to wait.

“Oh, where to begin? I have always loved tapestries. The weaving, the fabric, the artistry, the stories. I could go on and on for days about it all,”he said with a snicker.

Meg smiled, relaxing a bit at this topic. It wasn't as confusing as their previous one or how she anticipated the next one would be. His passion for tapestries was so obvious that she suspected anyone could pick up on it.

“I agree.” she nodded. “The detail and care that went into making them is amazing. Not to mention all the time required to make even one? I always imagined that weaving something that size took much longer than some of today's art.” she explained. She wasn't saying that other forms of art didn't take a long time to complete, like sculpting a statue, or that other forms of art were easy. There had been times when even she struggled with “artist's block” and threw away sketches that just weren't working. But to her knowledge, no one made tapestries by hand any more.

“Indeed, they can take much longer than some other art forms. At least, when made in the traditional ways. I know not about the new ways of weaving tapestries,”Nwalan said.

As they entered the tapestry room, Nwalan couldn’t help pausing at the entrance. His eyes shined with excitement and a wide, mischievous grin spread across his face. He giggled a moment, then seemed to remember that he had a companion and composed himself.

“Pardon me. As I said, I adore tapestries,”he commented.

He then stepped deeper into the room and looked around. Making sure that he and Meghan were the only two in the room, he snapped his fingers, a soft blue light flashing above his hand. There wasn’t any other outward effect, but Nwalan had essentially copied the entire room into a pocket dimension he kept for all of his collected art. He and Meg were still in the real room though.

“Alright, with that done… Meditation. Yes… That,”Nwalan mumbled to himself.

He then turned to Meghan, his demeanor becoming shy.

“I suspect you saw my wrist flickering earlier. There be more to that flicker than what it seems. When I get… emotional… or I encounter something that reminds me of those emotional moments, it physically shows as the flickering, among other things. Usually a form of meditation helps alleviate it. Though… it can cause strange effects. Thus, I will meditate for a moment, yet try to avoid panicking at what you see,”he said cautiously.

Afterward, Nwalan backed up against an empty spot on the wall, braced himself against it, and closed his eyes. He silently repeated a few different mantras he kept memorized, letting his body flicker as it would.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, small flashes passed across his body, changing locations repeatedly and gaining speed as they did so. As they got faster, they got larger. Then, after about a minute, the flickering was so large and rapid that it almost completely distorted Nwalan’s body. Faint noises echoed from him, some sounding almost like screams of pain while others were sorrowful wails.

Another minute passed, and the noises stopped, as did the distortions. It was such an abrupt ending that almost anyone who had seen it would question if they actually had seen it. Nwalan opened his eyes and straightened, seeming eerily calm.

“Apologies for that. Now, what were we discussing? Tapestries, yes?”he asked so casually.

“Neither do I.” Meg recognized easily though she grinned at his excitement at seeing all the beautifully crafted tapestries. She nodded at his explanation and prepared herself to wait patiently as he gushed over the exhibit but raised a surprised brow as he… apparently used one of his abilities. To what purpose? She would have to ask him.

Later, apparently, as he stepped back nervously. “I did see it.” she confirmed calmly, listening closely to his explanation. It was clear to her what had made him emotional and had an apology on the tip of her tongue when he asked her not to panic as he mediated. She nodded slowly, more intrigued than anything, and stayed quiet to let him meditate.

Of course, that only lasted a short time before his whole body started… convulsing. And the sounds she heard… she took a step forward but couldn't bring herself to touch him. Her brow furrowed as she continued to watch, hoping this… fit would be over soon.

“We were,” she frowned in concern, knowing what she had seen and heard. “But I am much more curious about what exactly that was. Are you… I was going to ask if you were alright but that seems like a dumb question to ask when you were physically acting like something from a horror movie or a bad computer program. What was all that?”

Nwalan was glad that Meghan seemed so calm while he explained himself. He smelled her intrigue, even felt it, but he was still wary of her reaction as he prepared.

He was completely oblivious to her actions while he meditated. He only noticed her closer proximity when he looked up. Her concern was touching, though he quickly became lost at her words. What the hell was a ‘horror movie’ or ‘computer program’?

“Considering, I probably should have done that in private, to avoid worrying you. Oh, I have lost my manners!”Nwalan moaned, running a hand down his face. After a moment he sighed and looked back at Meghan.

“That… be how I react to grief. It… hurts me, physically and magically. If I catch it early, like the flickering in my wrist, I can meditate and, essentially, purge the effect by forcing it to run its full course within moments. It be controllable that way. If I act not though, it will slowly pick at my body and mind, tearing me apart until I am nothing more than an insane shell. ‘Tis a fate worse than death, as I have been told,”Nwalan explained cautiously.

“And, before you try to apologize for revealing that memory earlier, you need not. ‘Tis nothing you did that caused this ‘fit’. I have been in mourning for… a very long time. As you have lost your father, I lost mine,”he added softly.

Meg sighed, reading his confusion about her references, and knelt in front of him. “Don't beat yourself about it.” she assured when he bemoaned his actions. She was worried about him but both of them were in unfamiliar waters right now.

Her eyes widened as he explained what had happened to him, trying to process how grief could physically and mentally destroy him. She nearly apologized for sharing her memory of loss when he interrupted and told her it wasn't her fault. Though she wasn't entirely convinced by his assurance, she nodded accepting it for now. “Well, I doubt it means much from a stranger like me but, I'm sorry for your loss. But at least you are in good company.”

Nwalan sighed again,”’Tis been so long since I have shown myself this openly. The tact… The strategy… I have perfect memory, yet I have lost that refined edge of etiquette. Why? How?”

He seemed to be more rambling to himself. He quieted though when he remembered Meghan was still there.

When her eyes widened, Nwalan couldn’t help peeking into her mind for a moment. He caught her thoughts on his ‘physical and mental’ pain, and couldn’t let that go for some reason.

“‘Tis magical pain. Body and magic. The mind be part of both. ‘Tis… tricky to explain. Yet, when I have these fits… it causes my magic to go awry. That be the flickering that distorts my body, and, admittedly, my mind. I become erratic. More than usual, at least,”he mentioned.

“I appreciate it, whether you are a stranger or not,”Nwalan said with a soft smile.

"Armien." Meghan said firmly as she tried to interrupt his rambling but wished she knew his real name to help him refocus on what was actually important. Though she raised an intrigued brow at his claim of a perfect memory, there was one other thing he said that caught her attention. "How long has it been? Since you didn't have to hide like you were?"

She let out an amused huff and held her hands up in mock surrender at the correction, fairly sure he could pick up on her obvious amusement and playful attitude. "Excuse me for not being familiar with magic. If it exists here, it's a well-kept secret so everyone believes all "magic" is fake. Street performers and con artists." she explained before realizing that he might not know what those were.

She nodded in return as he accepted her sympathy for his loss… "It's not just your father, is it?" she asked carefully. "Was it a lot of people? Those… screams you made… It felt like there was more." she admitted shyly.

Nwalan barely noticed Meghan’s attempt to interrupt him, but it helped bring him out of his rambling. He hummed at her question, wondering if he dared approach the subject of his time alone.

“A long while. My eyes and hair are clear signs of my odd nature, yet they can be passed off as a unique show of bloodline and dye. My hands though are more blatant, hence why I wear gloves. ‘Tis been ages though… ages… since I last showed myself without care,”Nwalan said with a sad sigh.

Her amusement and light words afterward caught him off guard. Nwalan had guessed that magic wasn’t common on Earth, but he hadn’t realized it was that uncommon. How could a world exist with so little magic? Worse, how could they exist with ‘fake’ magic from tricksters and jesters?

“That magic would be played off as fake… What madness has befallen this world?”Nwalan commented, shaking his head.

Nwalan hesitated at her question, wary that she could see his grief so clearly. Was it that obvious, or had she read it from him? She mentioned his screams as an explanation, but she was misidentifying their importance, though he wasn’t going to reveal that. It was simply the sounds of all his forms combined, the screams of many voices in one body. That was the nature of his being, same as all his kin.

“No. I have no one left back home. My father, Ehumar. His wife. Their son and his family. Agatha… The end of two great bloodlines. The end of an age. I should have seen the signs! Damn it, I told myself. I told myself no more thinking like that!”Nwalan answered, his words descending into more rambling.

He then sighed and shook his head.

“Apologies. My mind spirals occasionally. ‘Tis something I have struggled to control and correct,”he said.

Meg almost scoffed at his use of “ages” to show his time alone until she took a second look and was stunned. He didn't look that old but she could just tell… he was telling the truth. How it was true, she had no idea but his reference to magic and his strange abilities were most likely a factor as well.

She shrugged at his question and smirked slightly. “Human skepticism and fear. That's the only answer I can think of. Maybe even human arrogance.” she admitted. “I don't know if it's like this where you're from but here; humans always fear what they don't or can't understand so they either try to make an explanation fit or just… get rid of it.” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Hey, you don't have to apologize. It's not your fault.” she assured, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I… I can't imagine losing everyone but I know the feeling of struggling with both loss and trying to… well, you caught my lack of control in action earlier.” she quipped lightly in reference to her habit of blurting things out.

Nwalan was too distracted to catch Meghan’s revelation, else he would’ve acted on it. It was true though. Despite Nwalan’s youthful appearance, he was actually several millennia old. Though, his innately warped sense of time made it impossible for him to calculate his exact age.

Nwalan shook his head again.

“In my homeland, what be, simply be. Magic exists. Some can use it, some cannot. It be what it be,”he said.

Her reassurance was both comforting and not. Her words didn’t really ring true to him, as Nwalan did play a part in the death of a few of his family, if only in the sense that he didn’t do enough to save them. But, her attempt to be understanding, and more importantly, her hand on his shoulder soothed him.

“Ehumar, my brother, was a creature of immense control. He taught me how to be the same way. Yet, after everything… I know now why it be so difficult to maintain. Grief destroyed him. It nearly destroyed me, and sometimes, it likes to try again,”Nwalan said with a sigh.

“If only it was that simple here.” Meg sighed. “Humans are… inquisitive. We constantly ask questions and need answers. If something doesn't have an answer… then we can’t accept it.” she tried to explain with a shrug.

She gave a soft, hopefully assuring, smile as he talked about his brother and gently squeezed his shoulder. “He sounds like a good man. And a good teacher. I’m an only child so I can't relate to losing a sibling but I know what it’s like to lose a teacher and friend.” she sympathized.

Nwalan sighed at her words. The humans of his home were more accepting of the unknown, but mostly out of necessity. Few Forestfolk were willing to be studied by humans, and all of them were well-equipped to kill if humans tried to capture them.

Nwalan gave her a brief smile back, then placed his hand on hers as a silent ‘thank you’ for comforting him. Though, her words caught his attention.

“He indeed was a good mentor, and he had far greater honor than the rest of his… nation. Yet, he be my sibling not. Ehumar… The term does translate to ‘brother’, yet he be related not to me. Ehu… Tearion raised me as his own. I merely consider him as a sibling. He be my father, my brother, my mentor,”Nwalan said softly.

Meg nodded slightly at his smile, not minding his touch, and listened in earnest as he explained his relationship with… Tearion. She bit her tongue to hide her embarrassment for thinking that Ehumar had been his brother’s name. The thought of it being a different language hadn't crossed her mind despite his unusual accent.

“I understand.” she assured just as softly. Her father had always been her friend and the one who taught her so much, so perhaps she understood Armien’s loss better than they both had assumed.

Nwalan smelled her embarrassment before he even entered her mind. She clearly hadn’t realized that Ehumar was a word, not a name. Though, he also hadn’t explained that until that moment.

“Worry not about misinterpreting ’Ehumar’. I only just now clarified what it meant, and, admittedly, ‘tis a nickname I gave Tearion shortly after he took me in,”Nwalan cooed.

A gentle smile lifted his lips at her assurance.

“‘Tis been a long time since someone last understood me. My nature leaves me prone to… strange versions of logic and reasoning. Yet, on occasion, I am blessed with meeting one that can interpret my words. I am thankful you are one of those,”Nwalan said.