"A Grief Observed"
"A Grief Observed"
((Sketch of Lilliana))
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Last edited by Lilliana on Tue Oct 28, 2014 3:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: "A Grief Observed"
((This is not only part of Lilly's history, but hey, it's therapy for me too!))
“If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created.” C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed.
Lilliana sat alone on the warming sands of Tanaris, her staff lain on the golden grains beside her. There was little around Lilliana save for the miles of endless desert, the heat from the newly risen sun, and the faint breeze that played weakly with her red tendrils of hair. The young priestess gaze was set on the one thing that was present in the desert: a few neatly placed rocks that made a small pile in the middle of the sand.
Some days these rocks were completely covered in the sparkling and rough sea of sand of Tanaris, hidden under a suffocating blanket. While on other days these rocks lay exposed, and stood against the sand as a beacon to call to this area and what once happened here. Drawn and etched into these little stones were symbols, words and pictures. When Lilliana looked closely she noted some shriveled piece of plant or flower, hidden within the rocks and protected from the wind and sand. These were old offerings, left by her mother, Bloodshine, in the years gone by. The Sandfury Tribe that claims the deserts of Tanaris do not have permanent graves, for the use of mummification and raising the numbed dead has been practiced for far too long. To the Sandfury Trolls the thought of leaving a body beneath the earth to slowly decay and become useless was unheard of. Instead, all bodies were maintained, or raised, as was Sandfury practice. Still, this marker indicated a grave. For Lilliana it did little to bury the memories that she held here.
With a rough hand she brushed away some of the sand from the rocks. The priestess signed gently, her blues eyes unfocused now upon the neatly arranged stones. It was here that Lilliana's first and only born child, Den'ryu Sandshadow, had been slain. His life snuffed out like a weak flame before his soul had a true claim to this world, and he was lost. Lilliana was quick to follow her son in death, murdered by the goblin, Gabricci before her mother and shaman, Bloodshine, the Soul Eater, Warneshi Sandscalp or the orc warrior, Skash Bloodbringer, had a chance to intervene.
Lilliana leaned forward to inspect the rocks closer. Among the shriveled and dried pieces of flower and plant, she noticed two black eyes staring up at her. A snake. The beastly creature was curled up between the dark crevices with the small cairn, soaking up the heat that had been stored there from the previous day, although by now it was likely to be quite cool, as the dawn had only just past. Lilliana looked up towards the sun that made a steady path upwards into the sky. Soon the snake would slither out of the monument it now graced to bask in the warmth brought by the rays of the sun.
When the sun had climbed for an hour, the snake did indeed make it way out of the rocks. It moved slowly, lazily, as if it had become chilled and lacked the motivation to move. First it's black head emerged, then a long and slender black body followed. The snake's scales instantly glistened in the early morning sun. Lilliana watched as the serpent coiled around itself and placed it's head where it could watch her.
“Hello, cobra.” Lilliana greeted the snake. Snakes, especially cobras, were considered to be powerful spirits by tribes such as Lilliana's, the Sandfury, and also the Darkspear. Many Shadow Hunters of the Sandfury Tribe were well known for being able to summon cobras. They were viewed as powerful spirits and many troll's sported them as pets.
“Some would say that your presence here, at this place,” Her blue eyes roamed to the rocks behind the snake. “would be a blessing. Perhaps a loa spirit sent you here to keep this memory alive, hmmm?” The priestess spoke in her quiet, gentle way. Lilliana did not sound like her brethren. Her voice was not harsh or raspy, but instead her tone was smooth and her words were well spoken, and lacked the carefree and somewhat lackadaisical accent of the troll tribes.
The cobra stared at Lilliana, it's beady little eyes appearing to not waver. Since a snake cannot blink, their gaze is especially unnerving, but not so to a troll. Lilliana simply stared back. The cobra did not seem hostile to her, but it had not yet warmed up to the sun and was probably somewhat hazy. As the serpent lay there, Lilliana continued speaking to it.
“My life ended here, you know.” She explained to the snake. “But that's not why I'm sad.” The shake curled it's body in close to itself. “Oh, you don't think I look sad? I so promise you, I'm sad. I just like to look like I'm not, you know, it's not very pretty and stuff. But anyway, brave cobra, I could care less about my life ending at one point. Who the hell cares. I lost my child here, well, right there actually. He died, he was killed.” She raised her hand to gesture to the rocks, and the cobra slowly raised it's head. “I was just a child myself, a child having a child. Hah, fancy that.....and a Grim! A Grim with a child! That's even more of a joke. What type of a Grim brings a child into the world and tries to keep it safe? That's not what we are about! Our lives, then as they are now are dedicated to another purpose.” She smiles ruefully at the cobra and it put it's head back down. “What's that purpose, you ask, brave little cobra? It's so that the rest of the Horde can keep their children safe. That's our purpose.”
The priestess's voice seemed to grow faint as she continued to speak. “But he died while I was holding him. That sword, or really long dagger....I don't even remember what it was anymore....that damned sharp thing....went straight through my arm here.” She pointed to her right arm and drew up the sleeve of her robe. Her skin is rough, course, as the Sandfury skin of her tribe is. There are no marks there, no scars, but still, Lilliana pointed to where the wound once existed. “Here. And then it kept on going, and went through my child, and eventually, through my chest.” The priestess dropped her head and placed both hands on the warming sand in front of her. Her thick hair fell over her face, and brushed the ground. “It wouldn't have been the end had the weapon not held a curse. How the hell does a rogue get a curse like that? Soul magic! It always ruins everything. It killed Den'ryu. It killed him. And then I dropped him, I dropped Den'ryu. The goblin crushed him, finishing the job, when I lost my hold.” Lilliana is not one to cry, and so she began to shout viciously, “I dropped him, I dropped him......I dropped him!!!!” The cobra didn't react to her shouts, although he clearly felt the noise she made in the middle of this lonely desert. He merely looked at the red headed shadow priest.
Lilliana inhaled sharply, emotion sweeping over her. The young priestess always did such a beautiful job at maintaining her facade when among others, that sometimes she forgot to feel what was real. Her demure manipulation had even earned her the title among her fellow Grim as the 'Clandestine', somewhat as a respectful joke. However, facades and trickery are quite difficult, and when Lilliana found herself faced with the real truth and not the one she had created for herself, it was like a ton of rocks had hit her in the face. And that hurt, it hurt a lot.
“It doesn't matter.” She whispered, and then seemed to hold her breath. She became quiet for quite some time and did not speak again until it was nearing noon. At this time the cobra had raised it's head high and was watching her.
“No, it does matter. It matters to me.” The priestess spoke, her voice strained, and her gentle blue eyes threatened tears that she would not allow to fall. “I can't speak to him, you know. Den'ryu. No, I cannot speak to the spirit of my son. Actually, I cant' speak to any spirits, ancestors, or the damned loa's that all the troll tribes, with the exception of my twisted tribe, look to for guidance and support. And you know....those Sandfury....” Her sweet voice became laden with thick sarcasm, dripping within her tones in clumps. “Those freaking Sandfury need to rip out souls and bring back their dead so that no loa would ever be able to help lead the unfortunate Sandfury cretins home....... Those touched by that soul magic can't just give a holler to Bwonsamdi or any of the others that watch over the dead. The loa's don't listen, they can't I guess. I don't really know. It's not like they'd tell me anything about it.”
The cobra spread it's hood and bobbed it's head slowly up and down two times. “Oh no, little cobra. It's not because I'm a Sandfury that I can't reach the loa's to be guided to the spirit of a loved one. Plenty of Sandfury can reach the spirits, like my mother, for instance.” She grimanced. “I can't because I'm freaking forever banned from that. A freaking priest that can't talk to the loa's. That's a joke.” Her voice cracked and she found that she had to stop for a few moments. She found her voice again when the cobra issued a striking hiss at her, raising to much of his height while just a small amount of his slender body remained coiled beneath. Lilliana turned to the cobra.
“Well, I am a freaking priest that can't talk to loa's, cobra. I am. And that's a big deal. That's what priest's and shaman's do, you know? It's like we are the doorway to the spirits. Kind of worthless when the door is barricaded shut. Warneshi saw to that when he took my soul. Damn my mother and her stinking plots and schemes. They always backfire in the end. Manipulating the world around you doesn't always work in your favor, or in mine, in this case.” Her eyes became fiery for a moment, but then her gaze dropped and her eyes closed as if in resignation. She placed her hands on either side of her head, her fingers pulled at her red hair painfully. The cobra closed it's mouth and looked at her.
“But I cannot even mourn my son properly. I don't know if his soul has moved on or if it's found rest. I mean, I'm sure it has.....but I can never know myself. I can never feel it. That's denied. That confirmation, that which would console a troll mother who didn't have to suffer for what the stupid Sandscalp's did, I so can't have. Like, totally denied.” Lilliana sounded the part of the matyr, and knew it. “Sure, Bloodshine can tell me. But it's not the same thing as feeling it yourself.”
“I just would like to hold him again, even if it was only through a spirit memory.” A tear, caught by the light of the sun and glistening like a crystal as it slid down Lilliana's blue hued face, escaped from the little priest. “Den'ryu. I was a mother to you, little boy, little Sandfury.” Lilliana looked up and opened her eyes. She raised her arms, and held them in the position as if she was in fact, holding her child as she had done for a very short two days 6 years ago. As she moved there was a sharp hiss and the cobra spat at Lilliana, arching it's long body in a threatening manner. Then it struck at the priestess in a blur of black scales, fierce teeth and two small, black beady eyes.
****************
When Lilliana had first arrived in her desert homeland, the sun was just rising into the sky. Now it had become dark, and the moon had rose to take the place of the strong sun in the sky. The stars twinkled up above, creating a faintly glowing halo for the desert itself. One of the many hyenas of the Tanaris desert trotted across the sand through the darkness. A companion of the hyena yipped in that cackling, disturbing way of their kind about a mile off, and this hyena yipped back in reply. Despite their communication, this hyena continued on it's path. It smelled death, a fresh kill, and it wished to find this before the other desert dwellers did and claim it as it's meal.
With silent padded feet, the hyena came across the neat cairn of stones. The smell of death had lead the scraggly scavenger to this spot. All was silent in the darkness and the hyena was careful on it's approach. The canine circled the stones once and then a second time for good measure, ensuring it's safety. When it felt that it was indeed safe it growled and yipped, and made a mad dash to grab the dark lump that was lying still on the cooling sands.
The hyena then trotted away into the darkness. From it's mouth hung the body of the cobra, limply swaying like a loose string that had already begun to fray and tear.
Fin
“If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created.” C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed.
Lilliana sat alone on the warming sands of Tanaris, her staff lain on the golden grains beside her. There was little around Lilliana save for the miles of endless desert, the heat from the newly risen sun, and the faint breeze that played weakly with her red tendrils of hair. The young priestess gaze was set on the one thing that was present in the desert: a few neatly placed rocks that made a small pile in the middle of the sand.
Some days these rocks were completely covered in the sparkling and rough sea of sand of Tanaris, hidden under a suffocating blanket. While on other days these rocks lay exposed, and stood against the sand as a beacon to call to this area and what once happened here. Drawn and etched into these little stones were symbols, words and pictures. When Lilliana looked closely she noted some shriveled piece of plant or flower, hidden within the rocks and protected from the wind and sand. These were old offerings, left by her mother, Bloodshine, in the years gone by. The Sandfury Tribe that claims the deserts of Tanaris do not have permanent graves, for the use of mummification and raising the numbed dead has been practiced for far too long. To the Sandfury Trolls the thought of leaving a body beneath the earth to slowly decay and become useless was unheard of. Instead, all bodies were maintained, or raised, as was Sandfury practice. Still, this marker indicated a grave. For Lilliana it did little to bury the memories that she held here.
With a rough hand she brushed away some of the sand from the rocks. The priestess signed gently, her blues eyes unfocused now upon the neatly arranged stones. It was here that Lilliana's first and only born child, Den'ryu Sandshadow, had been slain. His life snuffed out like a weak flame before his soul had a true claim to this world, and he was lost. Lilliana was quick to follow her son in death, murdered by the goblin, Gabricci before her mother and shaman, Bloodshine, the Soul Eater, Warneshi Sandscalp or the orc warrior, Skash Bloodbringer, had a chance to intervene.
Lilliana leaned forward to inspect the rocks closer. Among the shriveled and dried pieces of flower and plant, she noticed two black eyes staring up at her. A snake. The beastly creature was curled up between the dark crevices with the small cairn, soaking up the heat that had been stored there from the previous day, although by now it was likely to be quite cool, as the dawn had only just past. Lilliana looked up towards the sun that made a steady path upwards into the sky. Soon the snake would slither out of the monument it now graced to bask in the warmth brought by the rays of the sun.
When the sun had climbed for an hour, the snake did indeed make it way out of the rocks. It moved slowly, lazily, as if it had become chilled and lacked the motivation to move. First it's black head emerged, then a long and slender black body followed. The snake's scales instantly glistened in the early morning sun. Lilliana watched as the serpent coiled around itself and placed it's head where it could watch her.
“Hello, cobra.” Lilliana greeted the snake. Snakes, especially cobras, were considered to be powerful spirits by tribes such as Lilliana's, the Sandfury, and also the Darkspear. Many Shadow Hunters of the Sandfury Tribe were well known for being able to summon cobras. They were viewed as powerful spirits and many troll's sported them as pets.
“Some would say that your presence here, at this place,” Her blue eyes roamed to the rocks behind the snake. “would be a blessing. Perhaps a loa spirit sent you here to keep this memory alive, hmmm?” The priestess spoke in her quiet, gentle way. Lilliana did not sound like her brethren. Her voice was not harsh or raspy, but instead her tone was smooth and her words were well spoken, and lacked the carefree and somewhat lackadaisical accent of the troll tribes.
The cobra stared at Lilliana, it's beady little eyes appearing to not waver. Since a snake cannot blink, their gaze is especially unnerving, but not so to a troll. Lilliana simply stared back. The cobra did not seem hostile to her, but it had not yet warmed up to the sun and was probably somewhat hazy. As the serpent lay there, Lilliana continued speaking to it.
“My life ended here, you know.” She explained to the snake. “But that's not why I'm sad.” The shake curled it's body in close to itself. “Oh, you don't think I look sad? I so promise you, I'm sad. I just like to look like I'm not, you know, it's not very pretty and stuff. But anyway, brave cobra, I could care less about my life ending at one point. Who the hell cares. I lost my child here, well, right there actually. He died, he was killed.” She raised her hand to gesture to the rocks, and the cobra slowly raised it's head. “I was just a child myself, a child having a child. Hah, fancy that.....and a Grim! A Grim with a child! That's even more of a joke. What type of a Grim brings a child into the world and tries to keep it safe? That's not what we are about! Our lives, then as they are now are dedicated to another purpose.” She smiles ruefully at the cobra and it put it's head back down. “What's that purpose, you ask, brave little cobra? It's so that the rest of the Horde can keep their children safe. That's our purpose.”
The priestess's voice seemed to grow faint as she continued to speak. “But he died while I was holding him. That sword, or really long dagger....I don't even remember what it was anymore....that damned sharp thing....went straight through my arm here.” She pointed to her right arm and drew up the sleeve of her robe. Her skin is rough, course, as the Sandfury skin of her tribe is. There are no marks there, no scars, but still, Lilliana pointed to where the wound once existed. “Here. And then it kept on going, and went through my child, and eventually, through my chest.” The priestess dropped her head and placed both hands on the warming sand in front of her. Her thick hair fell over her face, and brushed the ground. “It wouldn't have been the end had the weapon not held a curse. How the hell does a rogue get a curse like that? Soul magic! It always ruins everything. It killed Den'ryu. It killed him. And then I dropped him, I dropped Den'ryu. The goblin crushed him, finishing the job, when I lost my hold.” Lilliana is not one to cry, and so she began to shout viciously, “I dropped him, I dropped him......I dropped him!!!!” The cobra didn't react to her shouts, although he clearly felt the noise she made in the middle of this lonely desert. He merely looked at the red headed shadow priest.
Lilliana inhaled sharply, emotion sweeping over her. The young priestess always did such a beautiful job at maintaining her facade when among others, that sometimes she forgot to feel what was real. Her demure manipulation had even earned her the title among her fellow Grim as the 'Clandestine', somewhat as a respectful joke. However, facades and trickery are quite difficult, and when Lilliana found herself faced with the real truth and not the one she had created for herself, it was like a ton of rocks had hit her in the face. And that hurt, it hurt a lot.
“It doesn't matter.” She whispered, and then seemed to hold her breath. She became quiet for quite some time and did not speak again until it was nearing noon. At this time the cobra had raised it's head high and was watching her.
“No, it does matter. It matters to me.” The priestess spoke, her voice strained, and her gentle blue eyes threatened tears that she would not allow to fall. “I can't speak to him, you know. Den'ryu. No, I cannot speak to the spirit of my son. Actually, I cant' speak to any spirits, ancestors, or the damned loa's that all the troll tribes, with the exception of my twisted tribe, look to for guidance and support. And you know....those Sandfury....” Her sweet voice became laden with thick sarcasm, dripping within her tones in clumps. “Those freaking Sandfury need to rip out souls and bring back their dead so that no loa would ever be able to help lead the unfortunate Sandfury cretins home....... Those touched by that soul magic can't just give a holler to Bwonsamdi or any of the others that watch over the dead. The loa's don't listen, they can't I guess. I don't really know. It's not like they'd tell me anything about it.”
The cobra spread it's hood and bobbed it's head slowly up and down two times. “Oh no, little cobra. It's not because I'm a Sandfury that I can't reach the loa's to be guided to the spirit of a loved one. Plenty of Sandfury can reach the spirits, like my mother, for instance.” She grimanced. “I can't because I'm freaking forever banned from that. A freaking priest that can't talk to the loa's. That's a joke.” Her voice cracked and she found that she had to stop for a few moments. She found her voice again when the cobra issued a striking hiss at her, raising to much of his height while just a small amount of his slender body remained coiled beneath. Lilliana turned to the cobra.
“Well, I am a freaking priest that can't talk to loa's, cobra. I am. And that's a big deal. That's what priest's and shaman's do, you know? It's like we are the doorway to the spirits. Kind of worthless when the door is barricaded shut. Warneshi saw to that when he took my soul. Damn my mother and her stinking plots and schemes. They always backfire in the end. Manipulating the world around you doesn't always work in your favor, or in mine, in this case.” Her eyes became fiery for a moment, but then her gaze dropped and her eyes closed as if in resignation. She placed her hands on either side of her head, her fingers pulled at her red hair painfully. The cobra closed it's mouth and looked at her.
“But I cannot even mourn my son properly. I don't know if his soul has moved on or if it's found rest. I mean, I'm sure it has.....but I can never know myself. I can never feel it. That's denied. That confirmation, that which would console a troll mother who didn't have to suffer for what the stupid Sandscalp's did, I so can't have. Like, totally denied.” Lilliana sounded the part of the matyr, and knew it. “Sure, Bloodshine can tell me. But it's not the same thing as feeling it yourself.”
“I just would like to hold him again, even if it was only through a spirit memory.” A tear, caught by the light of the sun and glistening like a crystal as it slid down Lilliana's blue hued face, escaped from the little priest. “Den'ryu. I was a mother to you, little boy, little Sandfury.” Lilliana looked up and opened her eyes. She raised her arms, and held them in the position as if she was in fact, holding her child as she had done for a very short two days 6 years ago. As she moved there was a sharp hiss and the cobra spat at Lilliana, arching it's long body in a threatening manner. Then it struck at the priestess in a blur of black scales, fierce teeth and two small, black beady eyes.
****************
When Lilliana had first arrived in her desert homeland, the sun was just rising into the sky. Now it had become dark, and the moon had rose to take the place of the strong sun in the sky. The stars twinkled up above, creating a faintly glowing halo for the desert itself. One of the many hyenas of the Tanaris desert trotted across the sand through the darkness. A companion of the hyena yipped in that cackling, disturbing way of their kind about a mile off, and this hyena yipped back in reply. Despite their communication, this hyena continued on it's path. It smelled death, a fresh kill, and it wished to find this before the other desert dwellers did and claim it as it's meal.
With silent padded feet, the hyena came across the neat cairn of stones. The smell of death had lead the scraggly scavenger to this spot. All was silent in the darkness and the hyena was careful on it's approach. The canine circled the stones once and then a second time for good measure, ensuring it's safety. When it felt that it was indeed safe it growled and yipped, and made a mad dash to grab the dark lump that was lying still on the cooling sands.
The hyena then trotted away into the darkness. From it's mouth hung the body of the cobra, limply swaying like a loose string that had already begun to fray and tear.
Fin
