Miera Erevos
Priestess
Go home.
Location: Islimore -
Appearance: human, 20s, then black wolf.
Tag: [
Karim
]Music: Tai Pan by Rush
Time had slipped by.
Years.
Years since she’d had to face the weight and pain of a physical body for more than a few hours at a time. And already, she was so very weary. Her feet bruised, walking down the long, ancient path. Thousands of stairs, dozens of bridges and endless switchbacks lay between her – nearly at the mountain's summit – and her home so far below.
Wind played in her hair, tugged the ruffles on her maroon shirt, tangled in her skirt, wove around her bare ankles as she followed the ancient path, neatly picked out by the forget-me-nots along the way. She loved the quiet solitude, the beauty of the place, seeing it all with new eyes.
Gazing down below she could see where walls should be built, and defenses placed, to better protect her people. Watched the flow of the rivers, discerning where cisterns and watersheds might be placed, to guard against drought without parching the land. Things she’d not even realized she’d learned.
Her fear of people was no less, but her confidence had grown, and her body felt like it was her own, finally. Shifting to wolf form, she darted down the path, a familiar scent on the winds.
Meira had spent the time healing in the presence of her gods. Learning both what they intended to teach her, and a few secrets they hadn’t. She spent some of each season in her wolf form, the sacred places and secret paths of the Wolf Wood hers to learn. She took her human form as needed, tended to the castle and estates which helped shield the sacred lands of the lupo from the Fayth.
Time only seemed to touch her properly when she was waiting for Karim. Then the sun would set properly, and rise as it should. Hunger would burden her. It wasn’t that he kept a precise schedule, but a certain delight came over her foster father when he was going to arrive soon. All of the gods and nature spirits, truly, from great Aerðs, god of death, war and revenge to Xæiar, goddess of divination and prophecy, whose eyes mirrored Miera’s own – silver and gold. Of course, Karim preferred to dodge gods, a quiet game of cat-and-mouse ensuing, while Miera and Karim hunted, or talked.
As if summoned by the very thought, Xæiar appeared before her, all mist and shadow, and beckoned her towards a sacred pool. Light flowed through the pool like water, healing and powerful. They’d had her drink from the powerful, life-giving fountain a time or two, to cure the damage that the drugs and long captivity had done to her.
But always carefully, cautiously.
This time, V́atyn’s brilliant spirit form appeared behind her, and knocked her fully into the glowing pool. The goddess of light (all light - Fire, Sunlight, Moonlight, even soft luminesce) and inner healing let a breath of all-to-human laughter wash over Miera, as the pool pulled her down, the bottom of it a vortex that both healed her, and gave her body a mass and substance it had somehow lacked.
She tumbled out of the vortex atop an impossibly high mountain that looked out over the great breadth of the continent. Rænör, her divine foster father, was waiting for her in human guise. God of Life, Abundance and the Hunt, he gave her a grave smile, and lifted his hands to the sky. Brilliant sunlight shone down on the mortal realm, but where his shadow touched, the ground burst into life. The fields grew rich, the animals became healthy and vibrant. A gift, to ensure her lands and her people had plenty, in the coming year. A small trail of forget-me-knots led down the ancient, rough path to the woods far below.
Time only seemed to touch her properly when she was waiting for Karim. Then the sun would set properly, and rise as it should. Hunger would burden her. It wasn’t that he kept a precise schedule, but a certain delight came over her foster father when he was going to arrive soon. All of the gods and nature spirits, truly, from great Aerðs, god of death, war and revenge to Xæiar, goddess of divination and prophecy, whose eyes mirrored Miera’s own – silver and gold. Of course, Karim preferred to dodge gods, a quiet game of cat-and-mouse ensuing, while Miera and Karim hunted, or talked.
As if summoned by the very thought, Xæiar appeared before her, all mist and shadow, and beckoned her towards a sacred pool. Light flowed through the pool like water, healing and powerful. They’d had her drink from the powerful, life-giving fountain a time or two, to cure the damage that the drugs and long captivity had done to her.
But always carefully, cautiously.
This time, V́atyn’s brilliant spirit form appeared behind her, and knocked her fully into the glowing pool. The goddess of light (all light - Fire, Sunlight, Moonlight, even soft luminesce) and inner healing let a breath of all-to-human laughter wash over Miera, as the pool pulled her down, the bottom of it a vortex that both healed her, and gave her body a mass and substance it had somehow lacked.
She tumbled out of the vortex atop an impossibly high mountain that looked out over the great breadth of the continent. Rænör, her divine foster father, was waiting for her in human guise. God of Life, Abundance and the Hunt, he gave her a grave smile, and lifted his hands to the sky. Brilliant sunlight shone down on the mortal realm, but where his shadow touched, the ground burst into life. The fields grew rich, the animals became healthy and vibrant. A gift, to ensure her lands and her people had plenty, in the coming year. A small trail of forget-me-knots led down the ancient, rough path to the woods far below.
