[ AW ] A Wayward Traveler

LUNETH

"..."

Luneth had traveled far in her life — farther than she’d ever truly thought she would. When she’d been young, squirreled away like some dark little secret, hidden in the pines and kept away from the watchful eyes of anyone but her mother and father… she’d never assumed she’d see so much, travel so far, and ultimately… leave the chaos and crumble of home for good. But, here she was, in a new kingdom. One she’d learned was called ‘Rionnach’. It was different from her homeland, the place that she was so accustomed to. But not too different, not entirely so.

No, there were familiarities amongst the small things — the smell of pines was much the same, and wolves looked in similar fashions. But, of course, there were things that were inherently different. Even in her short time in Rionnach, Luneth had learned a few things. Politics were big here, and there seemed to be much political unrest. ‘Better than a raving cult, I suppose, although… Are politics and cults not almost one and the same?’ She thought idly to herself, giving a small huff of amusement.

Petite paws moved in silence through the place that she had heard called ‘Melrose’ on the whispers of passersby who looked at her as little more than a child, despite the fact that she was a woman grown. Her nub of a tail gave a small flick at the thought, the appendage that was never quite there trying to curl around her leg in thought, although only truly surviving to tickle at the thick tufts of fur on the backs of her thighs. She was smaller than most, although not smaller than all — there was always someone smaller, even if it meant they were younger, Luneth had learned.

She felt as much like a child as many looked at her as in many ways; living such a sheltered life tends to do that to one. But that did not mean she was naive or immature by any means. A little shy, perhaps, but neither of the aforementioned. But, she had to at least pretend, here, that she had her life together, that she knew what she was doing. It was the only way to survive, truly.

She traveled now towards a place she had heard spoken of as the ‘College,’ whatever that word meant. She had learned as much that it was a place of learning, and which, this was where Luneth thought she might start her journey in integrating into the culture of Rionnach. At the very least, she could try to learn some of what was going on, and where might be best to set up her home, lest she be nomadic for her time here. It was s start, at least.

HUNT YOU DOWN IN A DREAM

Sleep was secondary for a witch who needed to crumble an entire kingdom.


The banduri swept down the Highlands like the screeching, autumn wind itself, carrying the chill and bearing the cackle of the Morrigan herself. Samhain had scarcely passed and she was teeming with the promise of death and new beginnings. And while her origins were farther north—likely most of her allies, too—Yvaine Lusk was a cunning woman. If she wanted to secure the pretender’s demise, she needed to understand the infrastructure of every wretched corner of his empire. Surely there were opportunities in the Lowlands. The banduri would not limit herself by severing Gaia’s metaphorical legs. ( Already they were so bloody, stained by the scourge of imperial war. The next blood spilt would be the lifeblood to forge Rionnach anew. )


The Lowlands, it seemed, were busying themselves for the coming winter. The witch kept to the trees when she could, but strolled through open fields without shame. It was the road that she rarely followed. When had pursuing the beaten path ever presented unexpected opportunity? Most of the citizens were unimpressive, and Yvaine didn’t waste more than a callous glance. However, when she crossed the border into Melrose, her silver eyes clung to a distinctive frame. A sign, the witch mused, her heart fluttering. There was no hesitation in her swift gait. Every movement was precise, purposeful, and she closed the distance like a woman with a singular goal.


Yvaine’s path arched along the road, and moments later, she was above the traveler—standing on a shallow hill lined by crumbling stones. Her piercing, moonbright gaze met the other’s monochrome visage as she greeted, “Cù-Sìth*.” Her voice, deep but utterly feminine, was a reverential precursor to her interaction. The witch leapt deftly onto the path in front of the traveler, herself emerging from darkness but glistening in flaming hues. As though she crawled from the maw of the Hellgate itself. Slowly, she glanced over the tiny woman’s form and grinned. “Welcome to Rionnach.”

code by claerie
*https://www.timberbush-tours.co.uk/news-offers/scottish-folklore-cat-sith-cu-sith
@Luneth

LUNETH

"..."

While Luneth had expected to encounter another soul — hoped for it, even, she hadn’t expected another to appear so abruptly before her, spectral in a sense. Luneth tilted her head slightly to the side, petite ears pricked forward in curiosity as a foreign language graced them with a thick accent… one that she could not understand. ’Cu-Sith,’ she thought, repeating the words to herself. What did they mean? Luneth had no way of knowing, no way of knowing that the woman called her a specter in her own right.

Although had Luneth known, she wouldn’t have been too surprised, not really. She’d been called a ghost many times before her in life, a creature devoid of light, consuming all colors as if they were one within the inky confines of her pelt and the tar-hues of her eyes.

The petite woman drew up short, letting the step she had faltered out into a half-lifted paw that was slowly placed back down.

“Welcome to Rionnach,” the other woman said.

“Is my novelty here that apparent?” Luneth asked with a small laugh to her voice, her grin showing the pitch of her gums, the only true differentiation of color being the whites of her fangs, which peeked out from beneath her lips ever so slightly in her perhaps apprehensive smile. She was a shy one, after all.

“Thank you, for the welcome. I am Luneth. Who are you, if I may ask?” She spoke, her tongue feeling heavy and awkward in her mouth from lack of use. Her own accent was distinctly different from the other woman’s, a light sound that would have reminded one of the tinklings of fae language if they’d been so inclined to dream of the voices of the faeries.


@Yvaine

HUNT YOU DOWN IN A DREAM

Even the creature’s voice was fae! The mere sound brightened Yvaine’s moon-colored eyes and delighted her to her core. “Oh, yes,” she replied enthusiastically. The banduri twirled a bit so that instead of blocking the sassenach’s path, they could walk side by side. It wasn’t her intention to appear threatening, after all—not at this moment. “The pace of your gait betrays you, the wandering eye, the scent of your pores—” Yvaine tilted her head and grinned as she scanned the foreigner. “It is clear to me you are not of this world.” Literally or figuratively was yet to be proven. Either way, Yvaine saw a woman of interest, a potential sister, and that was all that mattered.


“Luneth?” the witch parroted, more intrigued yet. She paused her stroll, lifting one charcoal paw to her silken chest in reverence before returning smoothly to her walk. “A child of the moon, something you and I have in common. My name is Yvaine Lusk.” The crisp breeze rustled as if summoned by the sound of her name. A pair of crimson leaves spiraled across the dirt path and caught on the swaying grass. The witch continued to explain, every word laced with undertones of sensuality—and yet, her brusque and confident accent carried a matronly power that hid the allure upon first note. “I am of a long line of banduri, female druids…are you familiar with this term in your homeland?”

code by claerie
@Luneth
ooc. Sorry for the short post!

LUNETH

"..."

Luneth had instilled in her from a very young age to be cautious of others — but the woman before her, while strange indeed, seemed to have no ill will in her eyes. The petite woman found herself slowly relaxing in the presence of the other, as the other spoke more and more.

“The pace of your gait betrays you, the wandering eye, the scent of your pores — it is clear to me that you are not of this world.” A strange turn of phrase, yes, but one that Luneth did not put much credence into. Instead, the shadowy woman offered a smile, the tips of her fangs breaking the otherwise monochrome tone of her fur and flesh.

“I wish I could blend in more — but I must confess, I have not been in this kingdom long, only a week or so and I have yet to see everything. So in that assumption, you are most correct,” Luneth said with a small laugh trilling from her lips in punctuation of her words.

“Luneth? A child of the moon, something you and I have in common. My name is Yvaine Lusk,” the other woman said, a breeze skittering leaves across their path as if dancing at the sound of the woman’s name.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yvaine,” Luneth said, offering a dip of her head as they continued walking.

“I am of a long line of banduri, female druids… are you familiar with this term in your homeland” Luneth thought for a moment, before she slowly ducked her head, shaking her head in a negatory way.

“No,” she said. “I’m afraid not. I… I must confess, my parents were… superstitious, and kept me very sheltered from the rest of my homeland. So, with that, I must say that there is much that I do not know.”

She felt embarrassed to confess such a thing, as she knew that in many circles, her parents would have been considered insane for keeping her so secluded from the world, raised on the edges of a large pine forest, barely able to see anything beyond a certain radius, least he feared punishment.


@Yvaine

Watching Luneth—the shy tilt of her skull, the innocent laughter in her voice—Yvaine knew she was indeed mortal. This didn’t impede the banduri’s spirits; she was a sign from The Morrigan, nonetheless. A beautiful creature, a shadow reflecting the realm of the fae and all its possibilities. They moved forward, deeper into the Lowlands and further into conversation. It was the admission of shame that made it so obvious Luneth was not descended from Rionnach. Yvaine’s eyes glimmered with calculation, and she eyed the other woman sympathetically; although, the hint of a grin remained ever in the corner of her own dark lips.


“That is quite alright, Cù-Sìth,” the banduri uttered affectionately. “You are not beholden to your parents wishes, not now that you’re in a land of freedom. Or at least, it used to be.” She left that sentiment lingering, her voice hanging on the air like a juicy piece of bait. More on that later. The silken woman sidled closer to her ebony counterpart. “I fear your parents may have seen me as a monster, a thing that snatches good children from their beds at night. There are those in this land, too, who would discriminate against my kind just because I believe in the ancient gods, and the strength they give women.” Yvaine looked away wistfully, letting the information sink in.


Besides, she wasn’t ready to reveal that she was, in fact, a monster.


After a moment, her moonbright eyes turned back to seek Luneth’s charming, lavender gaze. “But do not fear, darling. I’ve lived in this kingdom all my life. I can tell you anything you wish to know.”


@Luneth

LUNETH

"..."

Superstitious was really a kinder word than what Luneth had experienced. Love based in fear, had been love but not something that had truly stopped the imposed isolation that had been only on Luneth. Her siblings, of normal color patterns had had quite the opposite experience.

But the fear of a cult and gods cuts deep.

“That is quite alright, Cù-Sìth. You are not beholden to your parents wishes, not now that you’re in a land of freedom(. Or at least, it used to be.” Yvaine said.

It was a realization that had not quite struck Luneth yet. She was free as any wolf may be. But it had not sunk in until a relative stranger said it to her. She tilted her head slightly to the side at the thought. Freedom. She could do as she wished with her life. The constellations — and their gods — held no sway here. This was a land of its own gods, its own people. It was… a new start, where Luneth could walk any path she so chose. How… strange a realization to the petite woman.

“Then, what am I beholden to in this land? This land of differences.” Luneth said, glancing over at her companion. “Gods and their powers held sway over my homeland. What holds power here?” The unspoken question of what takes freedom lurked behind Luneth’s tongue, but she did not dare voice it for some unknown fear that lurked quietly in the back of her mind.

”I fear your parents may have seen me as a monster, a thing that snatches good children from their beds at night. There are those in this land, too, who would discriminate against my kind just because I believe in the ancient gods, and the strength they give women.” Yvaine said. Luneth canted her head slightly to the side, thinking.

“They saw many things as monsters — I believe, though, that most of their fear revolves around an omen that they took me to be. You see, miss Yvaine, I was born on a moonless night, and I have no color besides black. Even my gums and tongue are black. My mother feared that the moon showing its dark side and me being without an ounce of light would bring the cult down upon us. They did not wish to be noticed by them, and they thought if they showed me to the world like they showed my siblings, that my small family would become a target for sacrifice,” Luneth explained, looking down at her paws as she spoke.

”But do not fear, darling. I’ve lived in this kingdom all my life. I can tell you anything you wish to know.” Yvaine said.

“There are many things I wish to know,” Luneth said. “This land is so different from the one I come from. I hear there is a political system here? And a royal family? These are such foreign concepts to me. Where I come from we had packs, each pack claimed their land. Some were more aggressive than others, but many were peaceful.” She said.

Luneth wondered many things about Rionnach, and the only way she would come to learn would be to ask. It seemed she was in good enough company to ask — perhaps she was in the company of a friend, even.


@Yvaine

Yvaine listened. She listened closely and attentively, the way a student listens to a master. She listened with reverence, and all the while her mind was turning, twisting words into possible futures and outcomes. Because as a banduri, Yvaine Lusk knew that she didn’t hold all the answers. Every encounter was a sign, a teaching moment from the gods. It was the nature of patient calculation that her mother passed down to her, and which she would pass with care to her own daughters, once she was lucky enough to be pregnant. But this meeting was deified in ways other chance encounters were not. This time, she was visited by the Cù-Sìth.


Perhaps she was not so different from Luneth’s parents.


“What holds sway and what holds power here are, currently, two different things.” The tiny grin on the edge of the witch’s lips widened. “But there are some boons to the politics. There are laws here, Luneth, that would prevent anyone from harming you based on your appearance. The only thing the petulant King has done right during his short reign. Any wolf who was caught trying to kill you would be imprisoned in a stone dungeon, perhaps even sentenced to death…as they would rightly be.” There was a subtle fierceness that entered Yvaine’s eyes, then, as she attempted to meet Luneth’s gaze. A glow in her moonbright eyes that might remind the outlander what was missing on the night of her birth. “I think you were meant to come here, darling. I won’t let anyone treat you ill.


“As for who holds the sway in this country,” Yvaine continued, walking smoothly and steadily, “that would be King Adamh. He’s a bureaucratic coward who was married off to the last Queen’s sister, just so the puppeteers in Parliament can legally overthrow Rionnach.” The witch stopped and spat on the ground. Then she continued walking. “Rionnach used to be like your homeland, dear Luneth. Clans who ruled themselves, whose blood was rich with the ancient history of this earth. For a short time, we were ruled by a strong Queen from the Highlands. She would have made the gods proud… But Mainlanders came in, belittled our traditions, and exiled her simply because she wanted a divorce from her useless husband. Now they prevent us from creating our own clans. Highlanders and Lowlanders must follow the laws they decree. One or two are good, most are selfish.”


The banduri paused for a moment. This was a wealth of information, but she was happy to share it. Especially if she could convince the sweet girl to agree with her perspective. After a thoughtful breath of silence, the sultry woman explained, “As for who holds power, true power that is…I believe in something immortal.” Yvaine smiled, as if the thought of her religion was so heartfelt that she couldn’t hold back her exuberance. “Nothing so vulgar as cults who sacrifice children because they look different, of course. But the presence of the fae cannot be denied. There are spirits and goddesses who shift between the veil of our two realms and leave behind traces of their influence. But the beautiful part is that you are free to choose who you worship and how. Or,” she said suddenly, shrugging, “whether you worship at all. No true Highlander would deny the gods, but you are a Sassenach, and are free to walk your own path, my dear.”


@Luneth

LUNETH

"..."

Luneth let the silence hang between them for a moment as they walked, letting the truth of her words sink in after they had tumbled over her ink-hued tongue, and past her charcoal lips. She turned her head slightly to look at her new companion as the woman began to speak, divulging her knowledge for Luneth to almost greedily consume.

”What holds sway and what holds power here are, currently, two different things. But there are some boons to the politics. There are laws here, Luneth, that would prevent anyone from harming you based on your appearance. The only thing the petulant King has done right during his short reign. Any wolf who was caught trying to kill you would be imprisoned in a stone dungeon, perhaps even sentenced to death… as they would rightly be,” Yvaine explained. Luneth’s dark eyes widened with curiosity, her eyes catching Yvaine’s for a moment. ”I think you were meant to come here, darling. I won’t let anyone treat you ill.”

”So the King says the laws and everyone just follows them? There’s no… squabbling from packs or others trying to change those laws? That’s so strange… This place is so very, very strange to me. Perhaps… Perhaps I come from a place that is primitive by those standards,” Luneth said, glancing towards the ground for a moment. ”We did not have this overarching law of the land, so to say. There were kings, sure, but they held their own swaths of land, and if someone wanted them, they would fight and the winner would get the land. Everyone listened to either their own codes or the laws of their packs — not a king. At least, not one that held that much power over everyone. The gods, I think, were the closest that we had to kings because their touch was very… evident there.” She trailed off slightly, struggling to find the words.

”As for who holds the sway in this country, that would be King Adamh. He’s a bureaucratic coward who was married off to the Queen’s sister, just so the puppeteers in Parliament can legally overthrow Rionnach,” Yvaine said. Luneth blinked, a confused look crossing her tiny features at a word she’d never heard before, although she did note the distaste that the other woman seemed to have for the king, or maybe this parliament, or maybe both.

”What’s… A parliament?” She asked, feeling stupid in not knowing what the word meant.

”Rionnach used to be like your homeland, dear Luneth. Clans who ruled themselves whose blood was right with the ancient history of this earth. For a short time, we were ruled by a strong Queen from the Highlands. She would have made the gods proud… But Mainlanders came in, belittled our traditions, and exiled her simply because she wanted a divorce from her useless husband. Now they prevent us from creating our own clans. Highlanders and Lowlanders must follow the laws they decree. One or two are good, most are selfish.” Luneth nodded slowly.

”Why do the Mainlanders decide for all if there are three distinct regions? Why… why not just let packs — clans, as you called them, rule themselves? I don’t understand why there needs to be such high power. Why are the Mainlanders so selfish with their power?” She asked. The Mainlanders did not sound like a particularly good group — or, rather at least the few that seemed to represent the many did not.

”As for who holds power, true power that is… I believe in something immortal. Nothing so vulgar as to cults who sacrifice children because they look different, of course. But the presence of the fae cannot be denied. There are spirits and goddesses who shift between the veil of our two realms and leave behind traces of their influence. But the beautiful part is that you are free to choose who you worship and how. Or, whether you worship at all. No true Highlander would deny the gods, but you are a Sassenach and are free to walk your own path, my dear,” Yvaine said.

”The gods in my homeland were undeniable in their presence. They would give blessings or curses, depending on how someone pleased or displeased them. They required certain things, certain deeds, and rites for blessings that were already difficult to obtain. I… Because the God whose constellation that I was born beneath, had the ability to discern who claimed who, but… I can tell here that those gods do not hold any power — I see nothing in the eyes of others here. It was startling at first, but now… it’s almost comforting.” Luneth said, looking down at her paws. ”The Goddesses here that you speak of, what are they like?”


@Yvaine

The witch nodded patiently, almost expecting such questions. Overhead, the afternoon sun glittered on its descent, bathing the green hills of the Lowlands in its dying warmth. Their path was winding, skirting forests and wide, empty plains. But every step of Yvaine’s ebony paws was as smooth and silent as shadow itself. “Parliament,” she purred, though it was more of a growl, “are like fat toads, bloating with rules and bellowing with greed. Most of them are descended from Mainland noble families…wolves rich with resources and power for generations. See, from atop their delicate lillipads, they don’t fight for their own positions. They train peons to fight their wars for them. Much blood was spilt this way in the civil war, only two years ago. You see, Luneth, the king is not the one whose laws everyone agrees to follow. The king is just a little frog that Parliament gave a perch so they can keep glutting themselves.”


Yvaine’s moonbright gaze swept away. A trill of laughter danced softly from her throat, and she shook her head. “Please excuse the metaphor. I wanted to paint a picture befitting their repugnance.” The witch’s eyes gleamed as she murmured, “Not all of us follow these selfish Mainlanders.”


The charcoal sassenach was overflowing with questions, and as the conversation centered on religion, glee thrummed in the witch’s chest. What Luneth described was a dream. To have tangible evidence, even direct contact, with the gods was a taste of immortality that haunted her nights. She wondered idly if these deities who ruled the stars overlapped with her pantheon at all. Perhaps they walked the same path, but called the almighty by different names. Then again, the poor creature was abused by ignorant zealots.


They weren’t as justified in their course as Yvaine.


“Oh, darling,” she said, a smile invigorating every note of her husky voice, “they are as varied and beautiful as every tree or flower in Rionnach. The goddesses take many shapes, go by many names… There is Boann of the Rivers, and Áine—goddess of summer, who takes the shape of a fertile, red mare. There are the Tuatha, healers borne by purifying flame. There is the Cailleach, whose reign quickly approaches. She is often called a hag, but she is also a mother and queen. She is the fearsome storm that bears destruction, but also rebirth.” Yvaine was practically singing, and her luxurious tail swished behind her as she turned to Luneth once more. “And there is my matron… I am devoted to all the fae and their kingdoms, but The Morrigan clutches my heart. She is the Sorceress of the Veil, the shapeshifter, the Phantom Queen. She sends omens, particularly at Samhain, when the division between our plane and their world is most frail.”

table ; bunny

@Luneth