nysalogs | locked to house #4

[Well the effort was made to explain it, better he confuse the man than the man start whining at him about it.]

Yes, in essence. Or, depending on how I wrote it down. You could behold a memory as if you were there, or you could simply feel the words as I felt them.

[ He tried! Which is more than Rhys expected so colour his pleasantly, if confusedly, surprised c: ]

.....Can I read it?

[He looked down at what he was writing currently. Unfinished, and.... a bit too personal to be sharing with the human. Tales of old friends, of his culture from the perspective of his wild youth. Not something he really wanted getting out to the human who would no doubt enjoy it too much.]

Not this one.

[He rifled through his notes until he finds one he felt was more suitable for sharing, and offers it to the human. A simple description of the Temple of Mythal as he had left it. At first it would look like little more than fancy squiggly gibberish written in pretty green ink, but the meaning would start to sort itself out and images would play through Rhys' mind as though he were recalling a memory.

It is a memory of an ancient temple, there is a bittersweet sense of familiarity with it, it is both a comfort and a reminder of what once was. There is an undeniable beauty to the place, even if it was little more than a ruin. Some of its wealth remained intact after millennia. And it ended with the greatest treasure of the Temple, while it wouldn't look impressive at first glance, the feeling surrounding it was conveyed through the memory. There was a hunger to it, and being from Abelas' perspective, whispers could be heard at the back of Rhys' mind. It would sound like nonsense to him, but the meaning was translated, an understand of what the odd pool was. The power it held within it, and the unyielding compulsion to protect it. The memory ends with a wrenching sense of loss.]

Edited 2017-09-08 03:10 (UTC)

[ And it's all...gorgeous. Rhys doesn't have another words for it as the scenes, thoughts, feelings, sensations all roll through him before he really has a chance to prepare. One moment he's trying to make coloured lettering out on the paper and the next thing he knows it's all bled away into an incredibly vivid, immersive experience.

For just a moment he gets lost in it, probably look rather silly standing there with a totally unprepared look on his face, but he can't help it. Rhys hasn't need anything like it in his entire life. The lushness of the foliage, the stone structure and the sheer naturalness of the surrounding area... he's used to the sterility of space stations where the only plant you'll find are potted and trimmed into perfect geometric shapes.

The whispers are less of a positive experience for him, but the vision and memory ends before he can get in too deeply to it and Rhys hardly notices as the paper slips from his hand and he brings it up quickly to his head, staggering slightly. ]

Hhhhhoooooly crap, where'm--

[ he's just a little disoriented here, give him a second. ]

[Abelas was fully expecting the human to be disoriented. He had shared this writing with on other, a human he found far more competent, and she too struggled with it. While he couldn't understand it completely, the lack of such an immersive trait of human writing often left him with a headache if he read it for too long.

He managed to catch the page before it fell, and neatly organized it back with the rest of his notes.]

You have not moved.

But I was--you were... Ohhh man.

[ Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a moment to sort himself out, clearing his throat a little and takes a few breaths. The disorientation fades quickly, but it still leaves him feeling odd, a little dysphoric as he squints over at Abelas and brings his hand away. ]

That was. Sufficiently weird. Cool, but weird.

[He could hardly be offended by the statement, of course the human found it odd when he was used to reading nothing but static words on paper.]

Tis how we wrote in days of Elvhenan. I admit it is no great work of art, but my writing is efficient at the very least.

[He wasn't certain if that was a blessing or a tragedy, would a human be able to handle some of the more poetic writings of his people? Perhaps his simple and blunt manner worked in their favor in this case.]

What, you mean that place? No way, it was...I mean it was pretty gorgeous man. Plants and trees like that aren't exactly common in outer space. Oooor the planet I got stuck on before coming here. Aside from the freaky voices it was actually...pretty picturesque.

[ Rhys would vacation there :D ]

Tis the Temple of Mythal. I was raised there, and spent my life serving Mythal. Though back in those times the vegetation had not grown so out of control.

[The mention of the voices has him glancing over at the page, wondering if he should write the bit of information provided him from the Vir'abelasan out, or at the very least alter it. He had lived with it for so long he had forgotten others may not appreciate the experience.]

The voices did not come from the temple itself. Not in the way you think anyway.

They weren't? [ No, wait, he's misremembering that isn't he? ]

There was that...pool, right? In the middle of everything.

[ This is really, really weird because he remembers it liek it was him there but it was a memory of Abelas's and...yes. Confusing. ]

Yes, the Vir'abelasan, the "Well of Sorrows".

[Now how to not only explain the well, but the effect it had on him as well.]

When those of my people grew weary of life, we would go into a deep slumber called uthenera. When such a time arose for the high priest of the temple they would undergo a ritual to pass their knowledge on through the well.

And those who entered Mythal's service would drink from it. In doing so we gained their knowledge, but also bound to their will to serve Mythal. Any order she gave, we would be compelled to follow.

The voices you heard is something I hear regularly. It is my predecessors sharing their knowledge with me.

Oh. That's...

[ A little creepy? That feels rude to say. I mean it sounds kind of sketchy to give away your willpower to something like an all-powerful being (if that is what Mythal is?), but the well also sounds pretty important for Abelas as a culture thing. He should probably be a little less douchey about that than he normally would be. ]

...Unique. Do you uh, still hear those voices? Or wait I guess not, since all of our universes were...

[ WAIT SHIT ]

Uhhh. Yeah.

[Fortunately he was hardly offended, while not the most difficult individual to get into an argument with, he expected very little from humans. He only raised a brow at the man in response and went about answering him all the same.]

I do still hear them, however they are far quieter. This world is as new and foreign to them as it is to me, and without Mythal to guide us, there is little reason to speak at all.

[It was strange certainly, he could truly not remember what is was like not having the guidance whispered to him. Such only really came when dealing with those from his world, or mulling over things from home.

He heaved a sigh as his gaze fell back upon the neat stack of notes.]

There was a time I once hoped to be able to pass my knowledge on through the Vir'abelasan as well. It matters not. The well was despoiled before our arrival here. The last remnant of the world I knew destroyed like the rest of it.

Despoiled?

[ Rhys doesn't actually know what that word means, but he know spoiled is bad...but de- is usually implying that something is not? So not...spoiled? That really doesn't make sense in his head, he's certain he's got this wrong. ]

Did something happen to it...?

With each invasion, the Vir'abelasan fell further from our grasp. There came a point when our numbers had become so diminished that we could no longer properly defend our temple.

[He did not bother to mask the bitterness and despair that the tale brought up in him. Granted he wasn't the most expressive of individuals, but few things got a greater reaction from him than speaking of what was lost.]

The temple became a battlefield between two forces competing for the power the Vir'abelasan would grant. One was lead by the one with vallaslin similar to mine, the other by some... creature. I did not care personally, at first I sought merely to protect the well. The child, Lavellan, and I had an agreement that he would aide in defense of the temple and we would allow him and his army to leave once it was over.

Such is not how it played out. They made their way to the Vir'abelasan just as I did. I was not granted the opportunity to destroy it, as I had hoped. Instead I left the fate of it up to the child. I had little choice. We would not be able to protect the temple against further attacks, and if nothing else the boy has a righteousness to him.

So all the knowledge left of my people, the last great legacy of our people, fell into the hands of mortals, and he let a power-hungry human witch imbibe it. The well was lost to mortals who had no hope of comprehending it, and the purpose of my Sentinels and I lost with it.

[ And again, there's one detail in particular that Rhys latches onto because not only is it someone he knows, but it's someone he likes and is currently in a fanclub with.

Or well. technically it's something about inquisitioning but Rhys is in it for the High Fantasy Club elements of it. ]

Wait you know Lavellan??

[ If Rhys should know this just pretend he forgot or didn't make some sort of logical conclusion here kjdg ]

[Dammit Rhys, just when he starts thinking you're capable of handling complex stories, you go and ruin it. He doesn't mind answering questions, but he had technically answered that one already.]

That is what I just said, yes.

Come on man don't do that--everyone's from totally different worlds, how crazy is it that you guys wound up being from the same one? I only know one other person here from my world and they're a dick.

[ Which is admittedly almost anyone in Borderlands canon. ]

Plus you guys are just so....not alike.

Then clearly not everyone is from a different world. The witch who took the Vir'abelasan's boon is here as well.

[Because he didn't have enough reasons to be bitter as it was. He did have to at least give it to Rhys that of those here from Thedas is was odd that so many came from that last invasion on his temple. None of his Sentinels, no one from previous invasions. An odd coincidence, but he has certainly seen stranger. There was likely some reason to explain it if he cared to figure it out. But he didn't.]

I am thousands of years his senior. I would assume you to be somewhat different from the children of your world.

[Well, maybe not Rhys specifically... but humans in general maybe. Or so he hoped. He had never actually encountered a human child before.]

[ How has he lived this long and never seen a human...or wait no, if he spent all his time guarding a magic puddle no one was allowed to come see that makes sense. Never mind. ]

Well yeah but like...I'm just taller? And more mature, obviously. [ That part's debatable. ] We're not that different after we grow up. It's not like we started off immortal or with...tons of culture, I guess? I guess it depends which planet you're from.

[He casts an incredulous look towards Rhys when he claims to be more mature than... anything really. Not that he even thought one could be mature before their first century of life, but such was dealing with mortals he supposed.]

The fact that I have seen countless ages pass, and was actually a part of a respectable culture, in no way explains how I might be different from some forest child not even half a century old?

[ There are plenty of wise and mature humans out there Abelas! Rhys is just not...really one of them yet. He's still working on it? Sort of. He hasn't matured anywhere near as much as the rest of the TFBL cast but he's still better than when he started out and genuinely didn't care about the people Hyperion ruined the lives of. ]

Now--okay, yes that...probably has something to do with it. [ foot + mouth OTP ] That's not what I.... What I meant was like...I don't know. It's supposed to be relative? Or something.

[At this point he has probably hit all the stages of grief and has finally made it to acceptance. He's just got to remember to keep the bar low for Rhys, that's all. He's a human, Abelas should know better by now.

So he continues with a sigh, and enough resignation to indulge hearing out Rhys' logic on this.]

Relative how?

Like... Actually I guess I should ask when you guys technically become adults? Is it a staggered thing where you live a really long time or do your bodies age normal and then you're an adult?

[ That clarification will probably help keep him from sticking his foot too far into his mouth. ]

I cannot speak for the shemlen as I have never seen one age, but Elvhen physically reach maturity within their first two to three decades of life. However, it is a few centuries before we considered them mature adults.

[Before that they were impatient and their judgement considered irrational like a child's. Adjusting to an immortal lifespan took time after all.]

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