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Current Every time I see an ad for a Ryan Reynolds film I think "That's so dumb." Then I go see said film and am blown away. I highly recommend "IF."
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I would like to use my next post to finally try my hand at writing a flashback scene. Since this is the first time I'm doing one of those this role-play I would like to give in my full attention. So, I may not get to it until this weekend sometime. I hope that is okay.
Darin scoffed, “I saw him for maybe two hours total. He came to Lively first. Then he came to see my village. We did our best to put on a feast that was worthy of his status. He has dined with all manner of royalty, human kings, Siren rulers, I’m even willing to bet that he visited your Sols?” She paused to fire off an aside, “That’s what your leaders are called right?” She continued, “We knew there was no way we could rival them, but we still treated him the best we could. I did not speak to him at all. When the feast was over, he asked the prettiest girl and the best hunter to talk to him in private. Some waited for the two to be dismissed. I was among the few that did not. I had chores to do. Then when I was done, I looked up and there he was. I have no idea how long The Gardener had been watching me work. He gave me The Seed. He gave me instructions. Then he died. I’m not even being metaphorical. I’m not exaggerating. He died literally right after given me this job; right in front of me. I screamed. People came running. I explained what happened and the village prepared me as best they could before they sent me off. And you know where that got me.” Then Darin actually answered the question, “He appeared to be human, but he didn’t look human. I can’t really explain it. He didn’t have the pointed ears and slender frame of an Elf. He lacked the gills and webbed hands of a Siren. He was stocky like a human. He looked human. I would never call him human. I would call you human before I called him human and he looked more human than you do.” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, “He did not look like a Child of the Stone.”

Darin hoped she didn’t offend Ridahne by saying she would call her human. The human wasn’t trying to offend the Elf. She was just trying to explain something she couldn’t explain even to herself. She wanted to know what others saw when they looked at The Gardener. The other humans of her village had agreed with her. He look human, but did not look like a Child of the Stone. That was jarring. The be human was to be a Child of the Stone. Darin wanted to know what a Siren had seen when they looked at the Gardener. Would they have seen a Siren without seeing a Child of the Sea? Would an Elf see an Elf without seeing a Child of the Sky? So, few people called specific induvials by the title of Child. It was mostly used as a species identifier. Humans were the Children of the Stone. Elves were the Children of the Sky. Sirens were the Children of the Sea. If all people looked at The Gardener and saw the race without seeing the Child that meant only one thing; at least only one thing that Darin could think of. It meant that the Gardener was not from Astra. If the Gardener was not from Astra, what did that mean for her? What did it mean for The Seed? Darin didn’t want to think about it.
Darin looked at Ridahne, “I’ve heard of it. Something that happened when countries were angry with each other. Families would send off their warriors never knowing if they would come back home. People died by the thousands; killed by people whose only difference was the place they called home. Children were stolen and forced to do terrible things. War and death went hand in hand.” She paused for a moment, “There are stories that the elders tell, that say The Tree was planted to stop a war that threatened all of Astra.”

Darin didn’t know how true those stories were. Then again no one knew why The Tree had been planted. No one knew anything about The Tree’s origins. Some said that all the gods of Astra planted it together. So said it was one god trying to keep another god out. Some said it stopped evil. Darin had even heard one man say it limited free will. Both evil and free will were such nebulous concepts that Darin wasn’t sure that they could be completely stopped of stilted. Darin remembered her mother saying murder was evil. If that was the case than The Tree should have stopped it. Everyone knew that murder was still a thing. Even before The Tree became sick warriors were killing other warriors. Did that count as murder or something else? Darin didn’t know. One thing she was pretty sure about was The Tree did stop war and something called slavery. Darin only had a vague idea what that one was. It had something to do with taking away freedoms, but the young farmer wasn’t sure.

Darin spoke again, “The Tree is such a nebulous thing. There are so many stories about it. Most off them are probably exaggerations or tall tales. I would like to see it before we get much further along. That might give me some hints about where The Seed needs to go.”

Darin didn’t say it would also let her know how to best to care for The Seed once it was planted. She didn’t like to admit it, but some would need to take care of The Seed as it started to grow. That was what The Gardener had done after all. That was another entity that had been shrouded in mystery. There were just as many stories it not more about him. Some even said he was a god. That couldn’t be true. Gods did not die. Darin didn’t think so at least. It was known that that he wasn’t a human, Siren, or Elf. He was not one of the Children that anyone in Astra had ever seen before. He looked human, but no one who looked at him would call him a Child of the Stone. Darin had even heard that Sirens saw a Siren without seeing a Child of the Sea while Elves saw an Elf without seeing a Child of the Sky. No one could explain that. Now he was dead, and he had left a woefully unprepared girl as his heir.

Darin asked another question, “What story do your people tell about The Tree’s origin? I’ve heard so many. And I do like hearing more.”
Darin glance at Ridahne from the corner of her eyes. IT seemed the human had struck a nerve by asking about the ojih. She wasn’t sure what nerve she had struck, and it didn’t seem to be good idea to ask which one. In fact, Darin decided to let it be for now. There were other questions she could ask when it was her turn again. Then again, she wasn’t sure she would take another turn. She wasn’t sure which questions would cause problems after all.

Darin turn her attention to Ridahne’s question for her. The Elf was wrong. It wasn’t an awkward question. That didn’t mean it was an easy question. The human had to think about it. The warrior’s question was not quiet the same as “Where would you be if he hadn’t left?” It was more like, “Where did you want to go?” Darin had been asked the first question by the elders more times than she cared to count. IT was an attempt to convince her that just because her father had left there was no reason her future had to change. The only problem was that Darin was pretty positive that the future that the elders want for her was not the future she wanted for herself; even when her father had been in the picture.

Darin was silent for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before she shrugged, “I don’t know. I know what I didn’t want. I didn’t want to be some farmer’s partner who was only good for giving birth to his children and keeping his house. I know it makes a lot of girls happy to do that, and that’s fine. I just wouldn’t be happy doing that. I didn’t really have any aspirations to leave home or go any further than Lively. I would probably wind up partnered to some one though. 14, the age I was when he left, is when people start considering who to match their children to. That’s also when children start matching themselves. None of the other kids my age were interesting. There was one boy from Lively who was pretty cute, but everyone knew that one day he would just be gone. I couldn’t imagine leaving my mother before this happened. I don’t know what I wanted. I just know that this wasn’t it.” She laugh, “But here we are, trying to save Astra, not because it’s right, but because we have no choice or the other choice is terrible.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Darin would not have picked this for herself. She couldn’t imagine Ridahne picking it for herself either. This was a journey with not clear destionation. They just have to wander all of Astra until they found the spot where The Seed wanted to go. That could take weeks, months, or even years. There was even a chance that they could start walking tomorrow and find it not more than twenty feet from where they were now. There journey was so nebulous that Darin was surprised that they had even come up with a plan to go see The Tree.

Suddenly Darin asked, “The Tree, have you seen it. I’ve never even seen pictures of it. I’ve just heard stories about it.”
Well that answered Darin’s question. Odds were Ridahne would never get a tattoo that told the world that she had helped the Seed-Bearer. Now that Darin knew the answer to that question, she was strangely relieved. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Ridahne personally. She was willing to bet that the Elf truly did want to make sure The Seed got planted where it was supposed to, but that didn’t mean the human truly knew anything about her. All she really knew was that that the warrior had done something that should have had her sentenced to death, but instead got her exiled. Darin stole a glance at the tattoos on her face. The farmer assumed that one of them told the people who knew how to read them exactly what she had done; well maybe not exactly, but at least the severity. Darin wasn’t sure what one it was. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Darin found herself speaking, “Sometimes you can tell similar things by looking at a human’s hair. A woman without children tends to wear her hair down around her shoulders. Then when she has her first child, she starts pinning it up. I think that’s more practical than symbolic though. The child can’t yank on hair it can’t reach.” Darin sighed as she moved to lay down, “That doesn’t work for me though. I cut my hair all off when I was sixteen. My mother just about died of shock when she saw it.”

Darin found she couldn’t lay down because Mitaja was behind her. She let out a sigh as she sat back up. Her shoulder was starting to hurt. She didn’t want to say anything though. It wasn’t a real pain. It was more of a dull throbbing. She had worked out in the fields while being in a lot more pain. Darin still didn’t think her back would ever be the same.

Darin found herself asking, “If I was Azurei what would my, you called it an ojih right? What would my ojih look like? I’ve been a farmer for about five years, I’m not married, and I’m pretty sure I’m the bottom of my village’s list of important people. Well, at least I’m not a drunk lay about like Todd.”

Darin had no idea why she had asked that. Maybe it would help her understand Ridahne’s culture better if she could relate to it. It was worth a shot. The human did want to understand the Elf better. She also didn’t want to pry into something that wasn’t any of her business. Besides, maybe that was a rude question. Suddenly Darin wasn’t sure. There was also the fact that Ridahne might not have enough information to answer that question. It wasn’t like cultures had direct translations from one to another. It wasn’t like Darin could tell where Ridahne would fit in her culture. Absently, she bit her lip. She might want to take that question back before Ridahne grew offended

She spoke carefully, “You don’t have to answer that. If it’s rude you can just tell me to buzz off. I would understand.”
Darin looked back at the fire, “My mother is beautiful. I don’t look like her at all.” Without even thinking about it her arms came to wrap around her bent knees, “She has the most beautiful deep brown curls. They practically reach her waist. Her eyes are a stunning green. If you believe the stories every boy in the village wanted to partner with her when she was younger than me.” Her voice was quiet and far away, “Everybody in the village loved her until my father left. Then they pretty much ignored her. They said she must have done something to drive him away. She didn’t though. Him leaving crushed her. That’s what I’ll never forgive him for. I don’t care that he left. I don’t care that his departure left us the village pariahs. He destroyed her. She’s getting better, but you don’t ever really recover from something like that.” Her fingers started to dig into her knees, “If, somehow, I run into him on this trip, I will do my ever living best to break his nose. He probably wouldn’t even know it was me. I might not be able to actually do it. I don’t care. I’m still going to try.”

Darin had no idea why her father left. Neither did her mother. He had left without saying anything. One night he was just gone. He had taken half of the supplies and their one horse. The last words he told Darin were words of love and pride. Then he betrayed those promises. He had left her mother broken. For months Darin could see that it took all of her mother’s energy just to get out of bed. So, Darin stepped up. She taught herself to take care of the farm. By the time her mother had enough energy to realize what her daughter was doing it was too late. Even before that man left Darin and her mother had fought constantly about how Darin wasn’t more feminine. The arguments got worse. Darin grew more stubborn. Yet, despite the fighting her mother ahd supported her every step of the way. Darin hated that she had basically done what her father had done. She hated that she had to leave her mother. The only solace she had was that at least her mother knew why she had left.

Darin forced her fingers to let go of her knees, “Anyways, your tattoos, they all tell a story, right?”

She was still trying to figure out if she would every be part of the tale on Ridahne’s skin. Darin didn’t know if she wanted that or not. Humans didn’t tell stories that way. They wrote them down or passed them down orally. Darin still had a few of those stories in her head form when they were pounded in there by the village elder in charge of making sure all the children could read and do basic sums. They were mostly folk stories and legends. History proper was written down. Darin never cared much about history. She cared more about the future. Would it rain to tomorrow? Would next week’s frost kill her trees. How would the harvest go? She was starting to regret that. Maybe if she had paid more attention she would know more about The Gardener, The Tree, and The Seed.
Darin turned back to the pile of wood Ridahne had collected to actually start the fire, “You already know everything there is to know about me. I’m a farmer’s daughter whose mother wishes would act more like a girl. The village elders wish I wasn’t so defiant. I taught myself how to farm, and just when I was starting to get the hang of it, I got sent off on a near impossible journey.”

There wasn’t much more to tell that Ridahne didn’t know. Darin’s life was boring compared to the Elf’s. The most exciting thing that had happened to her before the Gardener came to her home was the day her father left. Exciting was the wrong word. That was more depressing than anything else. Darin looked at her carefully constructed pile of small twigs. She then pulled her flint and striker out of her pocket. She struck the flint to the metal in order to get the spark necessary. As soon as she had a small twig barely lit, she bent down to carefully blow on the flame, so it danced across the rest of the kindling. The fire stuck so Darin sat back up. She had done such an action countless times. Patience was key. That was true for most of farming. Rushin did not make the crops grow any faster. Darin looked back out at the rain. The world sent at its own pace.

Darin turned to look at Reidahne, “What more is there to tell you?”

The human was genuinely curious as to what else the Elf could want to know. Darin didn’t really have any secrets to keep from her. She didn’t think. There were things Darin wasn’t going to tell anyone, but those all related to The Seed. Personally, Darin didn’t see any reasons to keep secrets from Ridahne. The human knew that the Elf didn’t feel the same way. Darin knew that she didn’t want to talk about why she had been exiled. She also didn’t seem inclined to talk about her home. Darin didn’t want to press. She was curious, but they had just meet yesterday. It wasn’t her place.

Darin looked down at the Elf’s leg. There was another tattoo there. It was all blues and whites and blacks. Darin was smart enough to know that the tattoos on her companion’s face meant something. It was highly probable that the one Ridahne was working on, on her leg, meant something as well. Darin knew that the Elf was joking when she offered the tattoo. Besides, the human didn’t really want one. It looked like Ridahne was piercing her own skin over and over again with the needles. That level of pain was not something that was appealing to the human. Though Darin did have to wonder: would Ridahne one day bare a mark that told the world she had helped The Seed-Bearer? That tattoo couldn’t be blue or white or black. The Seed was an apple seed. If Ridahne were to ever carry such a mark it would have to be red or green or yellow. It would have to be Apple colored. Darin didn’t know how, but she just knew that much. Some apples were even pink. What would Ridahne look like; with a pink tattoo.

Darin found herself asking another question, “Can tattoos be other colors beside the colors or yours or those red ones? Can they be pink or green?”
Talbot heard Ridahne and moved to follow the Elf and her horse to the small cave. Darin moved to get off the stallion. This time Talbot stood stock still instead of kneeling down or bucking her off. He just waited for the human to slide off. IT took her a moment. It was easy for her to swing her leg over the side, but Darin had to gather her courage to drop down. It wasn’t high, but it was further than Darin was used to jump. When she did drop, she stumbled as her feet hit the ground. The human pinwheeled forward for a moment before regaining her balance. Talbot snorted at her. She turned to stuck out her tongue at him. It was super childish, but Darin didn’t care.

She answered Ridahne’s question, “Yes. I also know how to make sure the fire doesn’t get out of control.”

Darin swung her pack around. Using one hand she searched for what she was looking for. She soon found the small hand-held shovel. She then found a good space in the little cave to begin digging a fire pit. As she was digging, she felt something hit her in the leg. It was gentle and when she looked it was a good-sized rock to line the pit. Darin looked up to see Talbot looking at her. She smiled at him. Talbot let out a snort and began looking for more rocks. Darin turned back to digging the pit. She didn’t really want to let the fire burn down the forest. That would not be a good thing. Once the pit was dug Darin started taking the rocks that Talbot was passing her to line the perimeter. She kept the rocks as close together as possible. It was clear that she knew what she was doing.

She looked back out to the sky, “Just in time.” She turned her attention to the wood Ridahne had gathered, “The rain is about to start.”

As she was speaking, she heard the telltale signs of rain hitting leaves. It started off slow, but it wasn’t long before the downpour started. Darin stood up from the firepit to stare at the descending water. It was consistent but not pounding. It was a good rain for crops. They would be well watered without being pounded to the ground. Talbot came to stand next to her. She looked over to horse to see him eyeing her. She was half tempted to think that Talbot was thinking the same thing she was. She was a farmer and, in a way, so was he. Of course, they knew about the rain. Of course, they knew fire. Darin was out of her depth. She wasn’t useless. She took a deep breath to let the thought go. It wouldn’t do to be offended every time it was assumed that she didn’t know anything. It was a safe assumption after all.

As she watched the rain Darin said, “This is going to last awhile. It will peter out instead of just stopping. We are stuck until the sun comes back out. That might not even happen until tomorrow.”
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