Chymera's Journal

In character thoughts written from the perspective of the character. Unless the journal is acquired IC through play, nothing read here may be used in play

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Chymera's Journal

Post by Chymera-LeMorte »

A journal, I have often wondered if this activity offered any benefit to those who partake of it. I hope to gain some clarity of mind, that in writing down the intrusive thoughts here, they will cease to haunt my dreams and torment my waking hours.

Where does one begin? Do I write about what I remember of my life? Or what is on my mind? Whatever it is that happens to fall from the quill when i apply it to the parchment? Perhaps a mix of both?

Damien. I married him because I loved him, an idea I now believe to be a total farce. Young Love, they called us. Enjoyed seeing us together, we were a beautiful couple. One I might have enjoyed seeing, if I had been on the outside looking in, as well. Or perhaps the powers that be saw it for what it was and allowed it to happen as a lesson for me.
I learned many things and benefited from it. I do not regret the relationship, but I am conflicted. The source of my conflict: Why would you marry a young Kindred and not even a decade into your marriage opt for torpor -asking this young kindred, to see to it no less- because your wife is young. Leaving her with three younglings as well! I did as he asked, being the young kindred I was, I required outside aid in doing it, but it was done. I laid his sarcophagus to rest in the sands below our manor, my and Luvenraths favorite place to rest as our dragonself.

When we met, it was true I was so very young, and though I often feel the weight of my years, I still am young in comparison to those around me. I had just been sent to the Wolfe, I was lost. Suddenly I am in this place, I know no one and it is nothing like what I knew aboard the Trinity or at the Vale with Madre. It was big, dark and violent, not that I was new to violence mind you. I was stealing the servants clothing to wear instead of the dresses Madre had sent with me. I tried hiding amongst the servants to avoid my tutor Marie… I ran away repeatedly trying to stow aboard ships and escape. I pushed her in every way I could think of right up to and beyond my Siring… Till Marie was told if I didn't begin putting any attempt in she was to end me. Sobering having your mentor tell you such, to have anyone tell you such.

In walks this tall handsome stranger who showers me with all this attention, and understanding, of course I fell for it. There were things that were out of place of course, he tried to do everything or have a hand in my doings. He was a Triumvir, but insisted on sitting in my office, as a Senator, and watch me work.

I grew up aboard a ship, I was taught from the age of 5 swordsmanship, both from my elder brother and the sailors aboard ship. Though I was protected and sheltered from most of it, I saw death and violence regularly, it was simply a part of life. I was taught sleight of hand, I could pickpocket my way through a crowd if needed. I pick-pocketed and rearranged the items in his hideous red leather long coat more than once. He scolded me for lifting a sword to rid the Realm of one who I saw as weak, (misguided I admit. I miss Ambrosia, feels like it has been ages since I last spoke with her).

Damien called me his Papillion, I chuckle now and have to wonder if the man ever really knew the young woman he married, or did he marry her for her perceived malleability and apparent family ties? I wonder if he chose torpor because I was not what he had envisioned me to be. I also wonder if he had not chosen to go into torpor, if he would have been able to remain married to the woman his Papillion became. she is not nearly as helpless and fragile as he believed her to be… Not that I knew myself.

How would he have handled recent events? Would he have been able to weather the tides or would he have fallen prey to revenge or jealousy? Do I want to know? Would I feel the same for betraying him as I do for Gawain? No. I don't believe he could. No I don't believe I would feel the same… utter regret. How is it I regret the anguish I have caused a man I scarcely know (though we are married in the eyes of the Realm), yet not at all the one I knew, was married to for almost 5years, believed I loved, and gave three children? I don't see my actions as a betrayal to him at all, and were he alive I don't believe it would change.

How I remember him getting into a situation with Lord Garth and afterward falling into my lap in the main hall. I had thought to reject him, but found it sweet he would be so open, so vulnerable to me in front of everyone. Now I look back and find it, ill fitting. It is almost like it is someone else's memory but I know very well it is my own. I remember the feel of his hair in my fingers as I ran them through his hair to comfort and soothe him. The feel of him as he sprawled in my lap, his arms winding about my waist, as if he had won such a boon from me. Such a display, and I married the man. A fact I cannot find fault with as it gave me the children, and had begun the trade company I now rely on. I can appreciate being vulnerable, but the memory now as I look back, it feels forced, staged. Additionally, I now know Lord Garth to be a calm and mostly patient man (mostly so, he does have his quirks, one cannot reach his age without them). I wonder at the context of the situation, but I doubt it was one brought on by Garth, as I remember Damien could be excitable.

I do not regret the disposal of his remains, that was a sound decision I am pleased, Sethrys and Arlan saw to its implementation for me. The site serves me better as a warehouse than a dwelling. I am pleased to see that moment of my life has come to a close. I wish I knew the whereabouts of Portia and Theron, but they are strong and will return home if they are able and so choose. I have Zania and she has become a beautiful lady inside and out.
I mourned him and his decision for almost 2 centuries, up until it was no longer an option. Now that I have written that I find it lacking and untrue... Looking back instead of mourning, I believe it was mostly wounded pride. Who wants to admit that after less than a decade of marriage your husband opts for torpor? Our marriage ended when he chose that.

After the process of torpor, I do not remember much of that time. I remember trying to be a mother to my children, and failing. Soon I sent my children to the Vale and took to the wyer, Sethrys and Arlan accompanying me. Theron and Portia never arrived at the Vale, Zania did. Zania doesn't remember why her siblings were not with her just that the day of them leaving they had been missing for nearly a week. I wish I had been there, that I knew what happened, that I knew if they were alive.

I stayed within the Wyer of the mountain for a long while, I cannot remember the actual length of my stay. Eventually the confines grew to be too confining and I took to long flights over the waters. Not returning home to the Wyer for months at a time. The last one ended rather abruptly in a mating flight I had not seen approaching. Had I known I wouldn’t have been out, but I did not notice the changes and I went into flight, mating a dragon who had been in the area as well. Turns out this dragon was none other than Jaide’s own son! A fact I didn't learn until much later, after I returned to the Wyer, after the eggs were laid. Jaide recognized them as her own kin. I recognized him when he arrived at the Wolfe to see his young and I knew it to be true.

I immediately returned after the flight, had I waited too long I would have risked the young ones when going between to return home. Once Jaide expressed an interest in them, I sent Sethrys and Arlan to Blackwood Manor and removed it. Arlan used his talent of acid and its ability to make things burn, they were to pay special attention to the sarcophagus and leave no brick standing. I had Lord Garth build me a warehouse where the Manor house once stood, across from the Docks we procured for the trade mercantile. I have three ships and the fourth is in dry dock. Sethrys saw to the business needs while I was away. Her mate disappeared along with my children, I can only hope Kristoph is with my darlings and kept them safe.

Meeting Gawain, officially for the first time, it was terrifying. I felt him when he ported in above the Wolfe. Spoke to him in the main hall at the castle and did not know if he was the Queen's son or just a vagabond… He wished to see his young, I couldn't deny him, but I wished to protect them. My attempts were most definitely amusing though pathetic. I didn't tell him who I was, but I suspect he knew me, just as I knew him. I still cannot decide if he frightens me, if I wish to stab him with a table knife (or anything handily within reach, a fork would suffice) or laugh at his bizarre antics.

Ah finally the difficult part, of this exercise. Perhaps I needed to build up to this, perhaps I am still stalling...

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Joined: Mon Mar 02, 2020 1:59 am

Re: Chymera's Journal

Post by Chymera-LeMorte »

I received word from Ly’on that he was once more moving out with his Dragoons. I wish he had stayed longer, but that is the nature of this life, fighting men need to fight. Had he stayed much longer and he would have been climbing the walls with the inactivity. I had hoped to speak with him more before he left.

When I was really little he was able to be around, but then he got his post with the army and I rarely saw him… When he would hear that we would be in port nearby he would visit us. If Momma was away, he would get me a sleeping draught for Nebet so I could leave the ship. Lately one such Memory has been repeatedly coming to mind...


Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл It was tea time. Nebet had been having Chymera finish setting up their tea for weeks, so adding her new task wasn't terribly difficult but she was nervous. Bottom lip held between her pointed predatory teeth she wipes her hands upon the skirts, her hands were sweaty but she also palmed the little vile she was to put in Nebets tea. She could say that she was sweating from the breeches she was wearing hidden beneath her skirts, but it could be nerves. If she succeeded she got to go with her brother, if she didn't she was stuck aboard ship. Hearing Nebet shift behind her, she glances over at her governess who lifts a brow at her. "It's still hot..." Chymera offers with a shrug and turns her attention back to the tea, she pops the cork for Nebet and dumps contents into the cup on top the tea leaves and tops it with the hot water. She starts making her own, but stops realizing she might mix them up... so she brings Nebets cup to her and sets it before her governess. Then returns to the side table to set up her own and brings the whole tray her cup and the biscuits on top. Nebet looks at her tea then to the tray then to Chymera a brow lifting. Chymera sips her tea and reaches for a biscuit pretending not to see Nebet's unspoken query.
Chymera tried not to sneak peeks at Nebet to see if she was getting sleepy, instead she focused on those biscuits... She was convinced it hadn't worked and she would be stuck aboard ship, when Nebet let loose a heavy yawn almost immediately followed by another. "ach, how about we lay off them biscuits and lie down..." is muttered as Nebet stands and moves for her bed. Chymera sets her biscuit down and meekly climbs into the bed she shared with Nebet, she ain't even lying down when she hears the soft snores of her governess. Blue green and gold multifaceted eyes widen, and she leans over Nebet "Nebet?" shake of her shoulders, "Nebet? Nebet!" Nothing but a soft snort. It worked. Suppressing a squeal she hops off the bed pulling her dress over -c-
her head and reaches under the mattress for the boys shirt which she has to wiggle out from under Nebets sleeping on top the mattress. then she heads for the trunk and fishes out the scuffed boots hiding amongst her pretty ones. A hat follows and she frowns then remembers seeing Momma put pins in her hair to hide it... she never understood why... shrugging Chymera finds pins in Nebets things and tries to pin up her hair before applying the hat over her head. double checking on Nebet who is still out she hurries out the door to find L'yon... He had promised to take her if she got free of Nebet...-d-

Ly’on- * Ly'on was...occupied. He had spent much of his night cavorting with doxies and his own men! What else was there to do when not out on Campaign?...Gods be damned they kept him so busy. Every month or other it was...Ly'on to here...go there. LY'on...Ly'on...LY'ONNNN...So he had absconded away leaving much of his dragoon company to deal with the insurgents in the villages to the south. He was back in the capital tending to the needs any man with a thousand winters under his belt ought to be preoccupied with!...For even a millenium into his...eternity...he was still an errand dog. Ly'on didn't think it would change anytime soon so he wouldn't let it bother him. He had only recently began his studies into the darker mysteries of Thaumaturgy. While as of yet unskilled...he was hungry for more knowledge.

For now he lounged at a desk tending to some paperwork. The eternal drudgery of command, even for just a company as his own. Never would they trust him with mighty armies...for fear of his father's blood in his veins. Damn them for that. Ly'on sat aside his quill and drowned again that pain with wine. For the cooling body of the doxie lay tangled in the sheets...bereft of virginity and her life's blood for it too. Ly'on rose then to fetch himself a clean shirt and tunic. "William...see the girl out and send her family a gift for her time. It was...eventful." Buttoning down his tunic as he descended the stairs of the modest bed and breakfast.

He had a feeling someone he cared for deeply was coming. That put a smile on the jaded immortals face as he decided on yet another fine bottle of wine for his breakfast! d

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл stuck her head out the door finding the usually bustling deck all but silent... the sailors were all else where, but so was Ly'on frowning she glances back over her shoulder, she had checked his room he used, his bed hadn't been slept in and as it wasn't much more than a closet there was no where for him to hide. Momma was out as well, Nebet was who had been left to keep track of Chymera... Chewing upon her bottom lip she eases out of the door and tries to calmly walk for the gangway... she dearly wanted to sneak along, but someone once had told her if she acted like she wasn't supposed to be there they would know she wasn't but if she acted like she did belong then they might not see she was out of place... She was still trying to understand what all that meant, but it seemed to mean not to act sneaky in a moment like this one... She winces at the shoes she wore, they would be painful upon her feet and give her blisters... she was tempted to pitch them and go barefoot... just like she did most times anyway...

She makes the gangway and has to forcibly remind herself to -not sneak- or veer off at the last moment... Her uncomfortably squished foot swings out over the plank and then when she's not grabbed and drug back aboard she is suddenly standing dumbfounded on the dock... She jumps when someone yells at her for being on the dock, but he's yelling at her not for being off the ship rather that she get away from it... stifling a squeal she turns and runs away from the Trinity, her home and the last place she wants to be stuck... by the time she reaches where the dock hits land she has decided that the boots would have to go. She would rather walk barefoot, and she already noticed many of the other children were already barefoot. She stops to see to the removal of her boots than is hit with another dilemma, where was L'yon? Should she try and find him? She could smell him... Luvenrath would find him much faster, but she wasn’t to allow her dragon out when in port... -c-

She chews on her bottom lip as she thinks and jumps when she's jostled aside having stopped in the main street or walkway. She would follow the faint scent that she knew to be Ly'on's that there were some of the sailors along with helped... there were other scents that she didn't understand, but they didn't matter at the moment... her eyes were wide as she walked taking in the port, it was loud, rough and big... her feet felt the road below them but having gone barefoot aboard the ship as she did they were calloused and used to rough surfaces. She was so caught up in the sites she realizes she's lost Ly'ons scent and had to double back... she did not know if she was following him to where he was or where he had been...she didn't know where she was to meet him, she had thought he would be on ship, but then he hadn't said he would be... what if she didn't find him? would she be able to get back on the Trinity?-d-

Ly’on- * He didn't need to sniff Chymera out. He knew his sister...and her blood. It sang to him in the darkest depths of his mind. The tender link to family that kept him from the proverbial edge of darkness that he danced willfully back and forth. Maybe someday he would damn his own soul for release...but not today. With a glass of wine in hand he walked out onto the stoop of the Roost, as the place was called. She would be along soon he knew. Her presence grew in his mind as he sipped at the bouquet of the red wine.

So he waited, making sure to have his glass refilled during that time. Ly'on was sitting on a chair at an outdoors table with his wine and a tray of treats for Chymera when she inevitably found him. "Late as usual...young one. Does mother know you are out and about?...Or did you finally do away with that dreadful nanny of yours?...I forget her name." He said with a caustic snicker as he closed and laid down the book he had been eyeing just then. d

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл she finally does find him, head tilting back her hand lifting to hold the hat inplace as he speaks she cant help her other hand lifting to her hip, "Late? How can one be late when a time and place was never given?" She pauses on the mention of their mother and she shrugs mumbling at her boots her hand that was on her hat dropping to fold into the other, "she's not on the ship.." at the mention of Nebet being dreadful she gasps, eyes widening as she glares at him, her earlier disquiet forgotten. "she isn't! Nebet is my governess and she isnt dreadful!" Nebet was guilty of being an overly doting and enabling governess, but escaping from the ship was not one of the things she would allow... Finally his snicker sinks in and she knows he's teasing her, "Ugh!" she says and launches at him wrapping her arms around his waist in a big hug. "your horrible..." she says before hopping back remembering that they were in out in the street. Once more embarrassed she looks at her bare feet, "I've been practising with my wooden sword like you showed me..." that he'd been showing her since she was about five or so she'd been told didn't matter, she still had to tell him... That she hadn't been given anything but a wooden sword yet rankled, but she snuck the sailors' cutlasses when she could, till Nebet found her and had gasping fits about the danger of her holding such things... she brightens and peeks around, "can we go look at a sword?!" she hops up onto her toes, blue green and gold multifaceted eyes swirling the three colors rapidly in her excitement.-d-

Ly’on- *Ly'on looked down at her when she came running up to him..."Ye are late...because the adult says ye are late. Why would ye argue with an adult, dear sister?" Laughing ruefully as he set aside his glass of wine then. " got away from Nebet? Oh dear...she is going to be furious with you!" Still snickering rather than his snide laughter. That bit of laughter could get him into trouble. He stood up and smoothed down his buttoned down jacket when she threw her arms around him. Ly'on ruffled her hair some in return for the hug..."You are horrible too...but we still love you."

A sword? Oh so she had been paying attention. Ly'on had that amused smile on his face that adults got with a child they doted on. In this case it was his sister. "Yes!...We can go by the weaponsmith to look at his swords. Might even find you a small one...if Nebet doesn't try to have my hide for it!" He made sure to tip the waiter with a few coins before grabbing his walking cane. It tapped down..."This way, little princess. A sword fit for a knight to save you and slay some mighty nefarious dragon!..." Or maybe a slithering snake of a Lion. d

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл that -he- would ask her why she would argue with an adult earns him an eye roll and a indelicate snort. At the ruffling of her hair she frowns and fixes the mussed hat, "Ly'oooon thats supposed to hide my hair...." that it was probably doing a poor job doesnt occur to her. The idea of Nebet being angry with her only gives her amoments pause, it really would only happen if she arrived back after Nebet woke... if she got back before the woman woke, well even then Chymera was sure she could calm the governess, she hoped... as long as Nebet didn't learn about her leaving the ship or the sword.

A sword! A real sword! Wait, he'd called her horrible? A sniff and a swing at his arm. "if I am horrible it's only because you're catchy," she says in a petulant tone, but it's not one that truly lasts as her mind wanders right back to that longed for item... a real honest sword of her very own... As he moves down the street she slips her hand into his and skips alongside him, preening proudly at being called a princess. Each and every glance that would lift to look at his face was filled with utter hero worship. She adored her elder brother and treasured the times she got to spend with him... they were fewer these days, but that just reinforced her belief that he was extremely important.

"Neferious dragons? That means bad right? -Are- there bad dragons?" Blue green and gold eyes widening, the green going lighter in color and taking over in precedence at the slight thrill of fear takes hold at the idea of there being bad dragons. She tightens her hold on his hand with one and lifts her hand to her waist as if the missing wooden sword would do anything to protect either of them... -d-

Ly’on- *"Ye are a horrible sister...and I am a wretched brother who gets ye into trouble with Mother. That's why it's so fun!" Laughing as he led her down the street. Her hand in his with a smile on his pale immaculate features. No part of him was out of place or mussed. Few things could do that. The town was lively but people gave Ly'on a wide berth, recognized as he was a Lieutenant among the Armed Forces. Few knew his fresh work with the Dragoons. It was a point of pride that he hadn't unveiled them just yet...One of his favorite projects along with thaumaturgy. But today was for his sister Chymera.

"Yes it does. And there are...just as there are bad...dhampir, like our mother. Or even nice ones..." He wouldn't frighten her with the wicked truth of the world. She would find out on her own. Looking down he saw her reach for a sword that wasn't there. "Here...take my cane. You make defend us while we tread these treacherous streets full of nefarious dragons and evil sprites!" Passing her his raven headed black sword cane. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл That he got her into trouble was a truth, but their mother doted upon them both so it was never very much trouble and he did make things fun... That people avoided them is utterly missed as she skips alongside him, between her glances up at him she stares wide eyed at all the people, the buildings, the horses...oh she loved horses, but they rarely liked her... Momma said it was because they knew she was a dragon... Horses were so smart! But not smart enough for life on a ship.

His mention of their Mother being bad earns him a frown, "she isn't either," Chymera had no clue what it was her mother did or what she had taught Ly'on, before he'd left to be in the army. Chymera only knew that when Mother returned from her days away, there would be new books to read, maybe a few maps and some new dresses, well hopefully not the dresses...

the offering of his cane derails the thoughts entirely and she happily takes it eyes wide, she knew he loved it... "can I see the sword?!" she asks in a badly done attempt at a whisper, seconds after getting it, but just before she moves to peek. She knew to ask first, and that it was to be somewhat of a 'secret' something that was not expected. She had dropped his hand to hold the cane in both hands, and had to remember to keep walking alongside him, she wouldn't open it unless she was told it was ok, meanwhile she transferred it to one hand and reclaimed his with her free hand and returned to skipping along, swinging his raven sword cane about oblivious to those around them.-d-

Ly’on- * He looked down at his dear sister. "Oh she isn't? us she isn't. I'll give you that Princess..." Ly'on was a bad man to those he was ordered to be. Or to the ones he wanted to toy with. It was the cruelty of the world you learned as you grew up. So clearing his throat he her arm a gentle swing. " can. Be's sharp and it hungers for blood when you draw it. But you may look at the damascus blade." He knew how much she enjoyed such things as she dropped his hand to hold the cane. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл At the mention of their mother not being bad to them she flashes him a grin her pointed teeth poking through her lips. That either of her two favorite people were anything other than the wonderful beings she believed them to be, just didn't fit into her world. She was indeed protected from the darkness of their world, while at the same time living amongst the fruits of it aboard a ship.

At the mention of being allowed to look at the blade, she waits a moment before dropping his hand once more and slipping the blade from the sheath enough to see the gleaming steal inside. The idea of a blade being anything other than sharp was foreign, but she was respectful of his reminder. The idea of the blade being hungry for blood, it only made sense. You only draw such an item unless you intend to use it, and you only use such to draw blood. She was a dragon blood happened often and not just when she kiped one of the sailors cutlasses. She only draws it partially from the sheath enough to get a solid peek at the blade and turn it so that it might gleam in the light.... Then it is gently closed and she returns her hand in his and waving the cane sword around.

She perks up at the sound of hammer upon iron ringing out, they really were out to find her, her own sword! Bottom lip once more is worried between pointed predatory teeth, the cane sword is slowly lowered to walk alongside her as she stepped and her hand that had reclaimed his tightens just slightly. Was it true? would she get her own sword?-d-

Ly’on- * Ly'on kept back a step when she drew out the blade. He trusted her with the weapon...but she was still young. Kids were accident prone. His chuckle came as she took his hand again waving the sword around. "It's light...fits my hand good and proper." He said softly enough so it wouldn't distract her from her entrancement with the steel death dealer. But feeling the tightening of her hand he chuckled just a bit more. Ly'on wasn't often prone to public displays of emotion...Oh he wasn't dead inside but he did keep a tight lid on these things. With Chymera however he tended to be a bit more freer with his thoughts and feelings. Blame it on the innocence of youth if you must blame it on something.

She heard right with the hammer sounding on iron. Ly'on gestured with his free hand, she had a death grip on his other. "I think we ought to start you with...perhaps a small sword or maybe a long knife. Or maybe even a short sword...So why don't you go up and ask my nice blacksmith to get you started!...Remember...pick the steel you want first. It's the core of any good blade." *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл It fit his hand right and proper, as it should. She hoped to find one of her own and being that they were approaching a smithy right then she could be walking away with one... or did these things take time? Gripping Ly'on's cane sword before her body, much like most would hold a doll she approaches the smithy slowly, cautiously. Big blue green and gold swirling eyes look up at the man, her eyes widen as she really looks at him.

He seemed to be a mountain of a man, seeing him suddenly her confidence leaves her and she is edging behind Ly'ons legs still gripping his cane sword. Hearing his words about what to start her out with she forces herself to look away from the mountain of a man to look at Ly'on. It's looking at him that she takes a deep breath, swallows her fear and steps back around infront to pick the steel for her sword... Pausing only to turn and return to Ly'on his cane sword stopping to notice for the first time the ravens head on the hilt. Turning it a bit to catch the different aspects, "thank you for letting me borrow it..." she says reluctantly handing it back.

The smithy didn't seem to be terribly busy or perhaps he found the small girl amusing... in either case he asked her what it was she was looking for. Frowning her hands lifting to her hip she glanced back to her brother before stating. "I live on a ship, and I need it for nefarious dragons and other bad men that want to scare Momma," at the brow lift she earns she lifts her chin proudly, "and I know how to use one properly, my- my brother is teaching me, since I was five..." -c-

a peek at Ly'on and she grudgingly adds, "and the sailors on our ship have as well when he's off with the army..." well they did till Nebet came barreling out from below decks because Chymera had slipped out while Nebet snuck in a nap. Chymera's favorite was when the sailors climbed the rigging and let her follow and Nebet had fits because she couldn't climb the rigging... Glancing between the smithy and Ly'on, she belatedly remembers her manners, "I am Chymera, and he's my brother Ly'on." -d-

Ly’on- * He just stood there with that smile every adult gets plastered on his face. It was half bemusement and half trepidation she might injure herself. Chymera would grow into a strong woman he had no doubt. But if harm came to her...his mother would have his hide for it. "Anytime you need to use it..." He said gently as he took it back. It tapped solidly as he held it with his other hand against the ground.

The blacksmith nodded at him and Ly'on nodded in return. The man was employed to make weapons for the newly fashioned...Dragoons so they had a working relationship. The blacksmith would put his hands on his knees and lower his large bulk now..."Oh really now?...And ye be wantin a sword? Big brother came to the right place! I'll make a fine blade for ye girl. What type do you want?...Got to make sure its sharp and quick to get all those bad men and dragons that might be after ye Momma." He nodded emphatically.

Ly'on set his other hand atop her head as she hid behind his legs. Still he didn't say anything...She was a big girl and it would be very amusing to see how she handled it. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл As she and the smithy talked she emerged a bit more and regained her confidence. At the question of what kind she would want she frowns thinking about this hard... "I wont be eight forever so a dagger or small knife that fits me now will not fit me later...I hope to grow tall like Ly'on..." head tilting she glances at Ly'on and brightens, "Ly'on also has said I will need to be quicker than my opponent because I'm small.." turning to look at him fully she chews her bottom lip, "did I say that right?" she whispered loudly before wandering off with the blacksmith to look at finished short swords.

A few she held finding she liked them others she shook her head, or they all but fell from her hand though she knew better than to jump or grab for them. She would mutter an embarrassed apology, and glance at Ly'on before moving on... making sure he was still there, not that he'd ever leave her before she was safely aboard the ship she knew he wouldn't, but she was out of her comfort zone and knowing he was there helped. "I think a sword so when I grow up it's a short sword...right?"-d-

Ly’on- *The blacksmith had little to say since she seemed to know it all. "Oh is that so...." Ly'on merely chuckled where he stood. His hands now resting on the raven head of his cane. He watched her with those black eyes of his. "A short sword would suit you well..." Ly'on nodded his chin towards one of the more narrow ones towards the end. He had walked closer when she began to drop the swords. The blacksmith had resumed hammering and heating the piece of metal he was pounding into a shape. "The one that resembles an estoc...It's like a short rapier." Most estocs were as long as a longsword but this one wasn't some damn needle, but had the angular blade suited for quick thrusts and parries. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл surrounded by sailors who answered her questions on top of Ly'ons (and Momma's) own answers and lessons, add in all the eaves dropping she wouldn't admit to, the thought and longing for her own sword...she did have a good idea though in many ways she was just parroting what she'd been told... That she could pass it off as her own words...

When he suggested one she paused and looks at the options and puts her hands behind her back not wanting to make more problems like dropping the blades earlier...Glancing from her brother to the now working Smithy she keeps her hands behind her back, "I can't reach it..." but she saw the one he meant it looked like the rapier she'd been shown but a little stouter on the blade... Innocent she might be but she was picking out a sword like other girls her age would pick out a dress or a new hat... the idea of new such items usually caused her to groan and become petulant, she was well on her way to treasuring books, and all things pointy as gifts.-d-

Ly’on- *Ly'on gave his cane a tap. This was a small working of thaumaturgy. Just enough to animate a nearby stool to actually...walk over to where his "short" sister looked petulant. "Use that..." He said with a small chuckle. She had so many choices that he dare not take that choice from her. "Perhaps you would like one of the filipino curved blades? Or maybe one that is wavy like a snake...or even fire?" Personally he would give her an axe. That would set her nanny right on edge. Best not give the girl any ideas about that. As he walked past her he went over to the shelves tapping fingers on individual blades...listening to the "tink" they made from his black finger nail. "Hmmm...not too bad..." He murmured to himself. Ly'on was showing her an example...of what a professional soldier might look for in a sword. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл her eyes widen even more as she watches Ly'on do something to make the smithys stool literally walk itself over to her. She peeks beneath the stool and tips it to its side trying to understand how it worked, but then she hears him talking about the different blades and her attention is yanked back to the much more important task of choosing her sword. A curved blade? Wavy like a snake? Fire? Oh she liked that idea..... she clambered onto the stool and hands forgetting to go behind her back she touches the swords he mentions. When she sees reaching for one of the curved swords she notices him tapping the blades she tilts her head at the sound and pondering the action... shrugging she begins to do the same as she looks the swords before her.

She'd handled full size cutlasses, and she liked the curve of those blades but not the unwieldy way they felt in her hand... she lifted one of the ones he called filipino. Lips pursing she flicked the blade, then felt the feel of it in her hand, she tilts her head and looked back at the first one he suggested... then back to the one in her hand. Setting this curved blade back where she had picked it from she scoots the stool over to the first sword. Flicking the blade, then lifting the blade she frowns and shakes her head setting it back and returns to the slightly curved blades. Flicking each one before settling on one that was a bit more pretty than the rest she offers it to Ly'on resting the blade upon her open palms. A brow lifted in silent query of his opinion.-d-

Ly’on- *Ly'on tapped his silver cane each time she flicked one of the swords. Just to make it ring more...distinctly. Exhaling slowly he watched his younger sister with a smile on his face. Rare for the raven haired Ly'on. Careful to remain quiet and out of her line of sight. Picking your first sword was would be with you the rest of your life. When she came back to him with a blade held out with open palms he lowered his chin. Coal black eyes looked over the curved blade and then back to her..."It'll kill a rat..." It might sound like a rejection but it wasn't. "Take it to the blacksmith so he can engrave your name on it...or whatever you might want to name the sword. It is...yours." He reached inside of his coat with his left hand and then tossed a bag of heavy coins onto a nearby workbench as payment. The burly blacksmith was only too happy to oblige in any way. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл utterly oblivious to her brothers trickery and observance, she stares at the first blade she'd flicked startled then blinking rapidly moves on not wanting to draw his attention to her. She adored the way the light played off the shining blades, almost like each was a jewel in and of themselves... A treasure in and of themselves, but she was picking just one it would be hers. Her own sword!
Having brought it to Ly'on she grins at the mention of killing rats, he'd lived aboard and knew about the beastys below decks... in fact he'd very possibly been the one to bring killing them to Chymera's attention... She didn't remember who or when she was shown her they were there to be killed or used to entertain herself with, but someone must have... Her first use of it and much of the use she would have for it in the near future would be those very rats...
At the mention of her name being etched into the blade, or a name for the blade itself she finds her steps slowing, Had she heard somewhere that names were powerful things? Would it make it a better sword or would it be something that hurt? Brightening as an idea comes to her she smiles sweetly up at the smithy though the innocence of her smile is hindered by the flash of pointed predatory teeth, "Do you speak Coptic? If not I can put it on parchment for you...." looking back to Ly'on she grins and bounces from heels to toe, she had a sword!! A scrap of parchment is handed to her and she gently takes the quill and scratches out the Coptic Symbols that would translate into "Dragons Talon." Even at 8 Chymera knew multiple languages and with her governess being Egyptian Coptic was used regularly.-d-

Ly’on- * she was getting her stride with it. Ly'on merely chuckled and allowed her to do it the way she wanted to. She might pick up on something that suited her perfectly. "Coptic?...Yes. I am fluent in it and I can write it." He came closer to peer over her shoulder...eyeing just what she was doing. "Dragon's...Talon. You want a khopesh do you?" Ly'on asked as he raised his hand to lightly rest atop her head. The blacksmith was tending to her blade...hammering out any notches or rolls. Then seeing to a fit and polish. "Would you like him to inscribe that on the blade perhaps? Or some design like hieroglyphics?" *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл hearing the smithy was fluent, didn't surprise her many of the adults she interacted with knew multiple languages. Hearing Ly'ons question she frowns not knowing the weapon he asked her about, though she was inclined to believe Nebet had mentioned the word in talking about a proper sword. Her head tilts and shakes, "nah I like this name and this's kinda like a cutlass but not as heavy and it's small enough I can hide it easier..." She flashes him a grin and bounces up onto her tiptoes wanting to see, yet not wanting to be childishly impatient. Most of Chymera's life she was around adults, very little if any time at all was she around others her own age. One moment she was wise beyond her years parroting something she'd heard from an adult, the next she was showing her age and inexperience. "Do you think Momma will like it?" if she showed Momma and she liked it, Nebet couldn't confiscate it... "you think she would let me practice with it?" she tilts her head back to look up at Ly'on eyes wide and childishly vulnerable. She looks at him a long moment before looking back to the Smithy who seemed to be done, she smiles excitedly then suddenly all vulnerability falls away replaced by a dark and determined frown, "or I could just use the flat of it to Nebet's backside if she tries..."-d-

Ly’on- *Ly'on just chuckled with amusement. Chymera scolded the knowledgeable blacksmith about his craft and what she wanted! It had better be right! He gave the man a respectful nod as the blacksmith bit back a chortle of laughter. Ly'on was fingering a rather fine stiletto, allowing it to twirl through the fingers of his empty hand. "Do I?...Oh she might. She has a fine appreciation of weapons...I've learned alot from her myself." Probably more than even their mother realized. Ly'on set the stiletto back on its stand and transferred the cane back to that hand. "Well if she doesn't you come tell your big brother...and we'll convince her to." He tapped the cane against the ground as the blacksmith did look to be finalizing her sword with a rather fine looking leather scabbard. "Nebet could use a good swat to her backside. She's a terror she is..." *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл Didn't intend to be pushy, she had simply made up her mind and intended to stick to it... Hearing Ly'on she nods, he was right Momma did have a good appreciation for weapons. She continued to bounce upon her toes watching and painfully patiently waiting for the sword to be done. Hearing Ly'on add to speak with him if Nebet got to be a problem and she nods though she didn't really intend to... she'd already learned that no matter how she insisted Nebet wasn't a terror Ly'on wouldn't believe it... the mention of Nebet needing a swat to her backside isn't heard as the smithy has gained her whole attention, she bounces and cannot help the childish clap of her hands before they are stuffed behind her back to stop them from continuing.
Big swirling blue green and golden eyes coupled with a matching toothy grin turn up onto the Smithy, "Thank you!" She trills and though she wants to grab it and run she keeps her hands behind her back and having seen such transactions before (her momma really did like weapons) she knew he would show her his work, show her the leather scabbard which and the proper way to seat the blade into it... She could withhold her hands but the bounce of excitement still excitement and focus her attention onto him. When it is turned over to her she curtseys' before taking it and trying to secure it onto the belt holding up her breeches. Blinking and realizing she was in the middle of the Smithy she blushes and begins heading for the street while still working on securing the scabbard to her belt.

Ly’on- *On the way out of the shop he fetched her a baldric. A simple after while she was fiddling with her belt in a rather unladylike fashion...he coughed. She'd hear it and then see him dangling the sword belt off the end of his outstretched cane..."I think this ought to fit you better. It'll make you look like one of my fearsome dragoons..." Each member of his small company wore matching baldrics from which hung their backswords. This one was a simple plain leather baldric, but it would fit her quite well he thought. "Now...that you have a sword. Perhaps...a fetching hat to go with it? Or maybe a pair of dueling boots? Hmmm...a proper swords woman ought to accessorize! No?" *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл did indeed hear his cough and look up seeing the dangling baldric she blinks staring at it a moment before returning her mussed clothing back in place, precious sword secured into one hand she leaps for the dangling baldric. "Yesss" she laughs reaching to wrap her little digits around it, "really you think so?" she chirps as she settles it over her shoulder and adjusts it and slips the scabbard into it at the hip opposite. It was much better fitting for certain. She glances up at the mention of a hat and she winces touching the one that was hiding her hair, her gaze lifting to his own hat. Shuffling in the dirt the feeling the dirt squish betwixt her toes. "Boots might be a good idea, but I'll pass on the hat."-d-

Ly’on- *He tapped the cane again. It was a habit of his. In fact it was really a subconscious tick when he did it. It reminded him of the rhythmic tap of steel against steel. "I do think so...It makes you look quite fetching as a swords woman." Ly'on laughed appropriately..."No hat hmmm? Too bad...a wide brim with a long feather is always the rage. But! A good pair of dueling boots can't go wrong either. To do more shopping!" He didn't know if Nebet was looking for Chymera yet...but if she was she'd have a hell of a time of it. The other reason he kept tapping his cane was to obfuscate their path through the city, making tracking his sister...all but a moot point. *

Cнymєяʌ`ŁęMoŗŧę«Ŗл Grins, blushes and stands proudly under his compliment, "thank you." Though she is wrinkling her nose at his talk of a hat, but is back to grinning at the mention of a good pair of dueling boots. She checks her new sword, then claims his free hand, she had no need of his cane sword she had her own. "We will look for a new hat for you and some boots for me," is said confidently, thoughts of Nebet were far from her mind. She was focused on her time with him as only a child could be. She also was hoping to find an open area to see if they could do some practice... though she knew it was unlikely but she could hope. As they would leave she would take up skipping alongside him, chattering about the events happening aboard ship since she had last seen him.

Posts: 14
Joined: Mon Mar 02, 2020 1:59 am

Re: Chymera's Journal

Post by Chymera-LeMorte »

So much has happened since I started this journal and I haven’t even put down what I wished to put to paper in hopes to find some clarity. I find myself unable to seek any rest, my mind is filled with difficult memories and am at a loss on how to move forward from them. I look back and I once more believe the only one holding me back is myself, I have lost sight of who I am, just as Shae claimed when she passed the judgement for my indiscretion.

I had a dreadful lapse of judgement and unfortunately acted on it. I let my guard down and allowed my dragon to influence my thoughts and my actions. My foolish action has cost me, but I am grateful it has not cost me what I had feared it would. Yes she may have been the source of the action, but I was the one who put it in play, I did it. Recent events have me hoping that the situation is in the past and can be moved on from. Perhaps the others this affected have moved on, but I find I am struggling with the weight of it still. It doesn't seem to matter that I regret it, that if I didn't know the mess it would create I’d be tempted to go back. Ahh, perhaps it is a good thing, I can’t not, not with Luvenrath bound. It’s only temporarily nice to think about, as I sit here I remember Madre’s warning of taking things in hand before they become worse, such an action is very apt to be one that would make things worse.

Posts: 14
Joined: Mon Mar 02, 2020 1:59 am

Re: Chymera's Journal

Post by Chymera-LeMorte »

When I told him what had happened, I expected… I don't know what I expected, but I didn’t expect him to walk away. I could see the anger and something else, confusion? He demanded I be grounded to the Abbey, collected Talim and left. I would have, well I would have exploded and thrown many things.
I next saw him at the castle, while talking with Ly’on and a former Senator, he was so short, brusque and harsh. I don't fault him, he was still being civil at least, but it was a shocking change. He meant to take my sons away to a school where I couldn’t see them… He gave me an orb I’ve no idea how to use, but I remember him saying something about focusing on who I wished to speak to, and Ly’on suggested it could be harmful so helpful my brother… I never used it. I put it on the mantle of my bedchamber and left it there. He left and just as he did Madre took possession of the twins they have been living in the Vale.

Gawain has since returned home and so have the twins. Gawain has made arrangements that I may see them while at the school, and I have chosen to send Arlan with them… he would benefit from learning the ways as well. Valor and Thorne will soon once more leave me but that is the way of such things, they will be strong and amazing beasts, like their father.

If any of this debacle has taught me anything, it would be that, for all the want to stab or throw very heavy objects at him, I find the stranger that is my husband amusing. I look forward to seeing or speaking with him. Something he best not learn as it would make him insufferable to deal with. Utterly insufferable.

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