Chapter 1 Side RP - Bonding Ceremony

Ten steps from the gate, Verrian is bathed in the psychic presence of the kinship. The unjoined seem to believe the Naucan sharing to be an overwhelming tangle of individual minds and thoughts, a cacophony that would drive one mad without years of discipline.

That’s not what it’s like at all. Verrian usually tells her unjoined friends that the sharing feels more like an ever shifting symphony, that the individual threads blend together into a kind of psychic tapestry. It’s not really accurate – it’s too hard to describe in mere language – but it seems to bring unjoined slightly closer to understanding.

As she opens the gate, she is about to share her arrival – something that other Naucans would experience as an image of her walking onto the grounds or through the gate, accompanied by a sense of how doing so feels to her emotionally. It is more or less the equivalent of announcing "I’m home" when walking through the door. But before her sharing has quite begun, she feels others already sharing the news of her return – the equivalent of numerous people announcing, She’s here!

The front door of the large common house bursts open and a dark-skinned girl of thirteen bounds down the steps. In her excitement, Neery of Yael shares like a younger child, all disjointed and half-finished and invigorating, images of idealized adventure mixed with questions great and detailed mixed with worry and fear and pride. The closest, meager translation into spoken language might be, It’s true, isn’t it? Everyone is sharing it. You’re going away? Outside the wards?

Neery throws her arms around Verrian, smiling up at her (though not too far; she’s getting tall) as Verrian shares her confirmation that yes, she’s going outside the walls. Arms entwined around each other, they walk into the common house beaming and laughing and sharing.

Inside, the mood is somehow both solemn and exuberant, and Verrian becomes aware that a formal bonding ceremony is in the works. She isn’t surprised; she’s about to leave the comfort of Naucan fellowship, possibly forever. The bonding is an intense, purposeful, and potent session of sharing designed to saturate her mind and soul with the kinship, to give her a well of remembered sharing from which to draw strength, advice, and especially comfort as she moves into a life of unconnectedness.

She extricates herself from Neery with a kiss to the top of her head and excuses herself to prepare for the ceremony. Halfway up, an overwhelming thread of anger, betrayal, and grief stabs into her mind. The kinship isn’t a utopia, and Verrian is well aware that not quite everyone in it is happy for her opportunity (or sad to see her go), but this sharing is different.

Looking up, she sees Gamnel of Yael, Neery’s fourteen-year-old brother, bottomless black eyes staring down at her with the kind of focused condemnation that only teenagers have the purity to perform. In the three years since the wards had inadvertently created the Meriava kinship, Verrian had become as close to these two young people as she’d been with her own family in Nauca. But where both children were passionate, Gamnel had the greater tendency to angst and temper. Still, she’s surprised at how angry he seems to be.

Climbing the remaining stairs to the second floor, Verrian reaches out to him, enveloping him in her love, hope, sorrow, regret. It’s her way of saying, I’m sorry to be leaving you, I know this feels like abandonment, I’m doing it for all of us, even you, even though it hurts.

Verrian leans into Adaye's restorative presence. She can feel Gamnel's anxiety ticking downward, the fear that is stoking his anger diminishing enough that he can smile, just a little. When he looks at Verrian again, there is less pain in his eyes, and that makes it easier for Verrian to smile when she meets them. She shares a sense of herself hugging him and he flashes his assent, but hugs her tightly before she can move to act on it. As she returns his fierce embrace, Adaye's hands never leave their shoulders.

Finally, Verrian shares a need to get to her room and prepare for the ceremony. Go find your sister, help her prepare. I'll see you soon. He smiles - still a little sadly - heads back downstairs. Verrian turns back to Adaye and shares, So many thanks, Adaye. This is will be so hard for both of them. She opens herself to sense whatever Adaye herself is feeling and thinking in this moment. She is curious about her views on the expedition.

Adaye reflects quiet amusement as she watches the boy -- nearly a man -- return downstairs. It is hard for all of us, bright flame. Stylized images emanate from Adaye: Verrian's red hair blowing about her face as though her head was on fire, flashing eyes and anger as Verrian fought her own internal struggles, warmth like the glowing embers of a fire as Adaye watches Verrian work with the younger members of the kinship. It is a moniker Adaye bestowed upon Verrian years ago now, even before the wards, a fondly teasing characterization of the younger Naucan's more mercurial moments.

Adaye's sunburst markings shift and swirl, as she lets her own emotions free for just a short time. It will be hard for you as well, far away from your kin, but I would have chosen none other from your brothers and sisters. Flame forges steel, dear one. You will find more of our people, and you will bring them hope.

There is more she is not saying, not yet at least, but Adaye is not locking anything out, merely biding her time until after the ceremony. I will have some parting thoughts for you. Afterward. Images swirl once more, a metaphor of Adaye helping Verrian to buckle on powerful armor that both know she would never wear, suggesting that Adaye has something powerful to offer.

As always, Adaye's affectionate nickname spawns a fleeting flash of embarrassment, rooted as it is in her youthful struggle to control her temper, but these days it's almost too quick for anyone who doesn't know her well to process it. Adaye, of course, knows her well, and it doesn't bother Verrian that she can see it. Much more prominent is the pleasure Verrian takes in the affection the name represents. She's been lucky to have Adaye's attention, tutelage, and guidance in her life - especially in the years since the wards went up. Since Verrian learned of the role she inadvertently played...

As her thoughts and emotions shift and darken, Verrian leaves them all open to Adaye, from whom Verrian has few secrets. She feels her facial markings going scarlet as her long-simmering rage briefly bobs to the surface, but within a second or two, she's tucked it back into the psychic cubby hole she's made for it. Only within the safety of the kinship would she allow even that much to show, and not even with every member.

Adaye's image of the armor brings both anticipation and foreboding. I'm excited, she flashes, I'm afraid. So anxious to get out, to find our people. But not like this, not with a group of innocents, no matter how powerful they are... She reins in her rapidly escalating emotions. While she has few secrets from Adaye, she nevertheless doesn't wish to appear at the mercy of her feelings or fears.

Adaye tilts her head, watching Verrian with a patient smile. I put the girl Elora's name forward. Why do you suppose I recommended an... innocent, as you so eloquently put it? Adaye tucks a hand around Verrian's arm, and leads her toward the central chamber of the kinship's holding here in Meriava. Innocents look on things with fresh eyes, less touched by the weight of years, the weight of what they've always thought to be true. Of course there is danger, dear one. Anything worth doing is dangerous. Just like with you, there is a core of strength in each of these traveling companions of yours. Start simply, journey to Alcave and see what you can learn. If any are unsuited to continuing the journey, they will be welcomed back within the wards. Nothing says they can never return.

Adaye pauses at the doorway to the central chamber. Do you have further questions before the ceremony? Now would be the time to ask -- the others wait inside.

The darkened Common Hall is filled with flickering lights from hundreds of candles, and from the colorful glowing of the facial markings of all the members of the kinship, who sit on colorful cushions on the floor in a massive circle. The blend of feeling and thought being generated is an almost tangible force; it surrounds Verrian and compels her with an almost physical tug toward the large, plush round cushion at the center of the circle.

She kneels upon it slowly, careful to keep her balance against the powerful impact of the focused sharing. She’d been the center of a bonding ceremony twice before, with her Cyr kinship: once when she’d left to attend the School of Seven Stones, and again when she’d left Nauca to serve as a diplomat in various countries. Both had been powerful experiences, but not quite like this. Of course, those times she hadn’t been embarking on an epic journey into the unknown to uncover the fate of her people.

As she lies back on the cushion, she can feel their thoughts, memories, their joy and hope and love caressing her – body, mind, and heart. Gradually, the kinship shift as one – not unlike a great orchestra – to begin the Promise – a psychic chant that is half prayer, half oath. The actual meaning of it, which speaks to unity, fellowship, bonds of love and obligation to one another, has no adequate linguistic translation. She’d tried to define it to some of her students once and could only manage, You are mine. I am yours. We are one. You are all.

Her students had not been impressed. But if they could feel it as she does now, they would understand. She joined in, returning the Promise to her kinship as she accepted it from them.

You are mine. I am yours. We are one. You are all.

Eventually, the Promise became more of a low murmur, a backdrop against which the bonds of each member of the kinship were played, like solos. The purpose of the bonds were to provide the center – Verrian, in this case – with something pure and intentional from each member of the kinship, something of them for her to carry with her forever. It could be a memory, a piece of advice, a meaningful image. There were no rules or standards. It was strictly up to each member what they wanted the center of the circle to have of them.

The bonds begin to come, one at a time.

By the time the bonds are finished, Verrian feels nearly drunk with feeling. She shares a mostly-incoherent series of images designed to convey her love and thanks - birds in flight, a field of bright yellow flowers, a bowl of rose quartz heart-shaped stones, and, for some reason, a spoon - yes, drunk indeed.

She can feel some of them laughing gently as she finally gives in to the sleepiness that is pushing her firmly down against the comfy cushion. A slight weight presses her from above and she realizes someone has covered her with a velvety blanket. And then, she is lost to dreams.

Verrian stretches, feeling more refreshed than she has in, well, in at least three years. She shares her thanks and grasps Neery's hand that's on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as she smiles before climbing out of bed to dress and have a light breakfast.

The mood is more subdued among the kinship this morning; everyone has offered their most important insights the night before and there is no need to tread on that with additional emotion. After breakfast, Verrian dons her leather armor, straps on her weapons, and hefts her backpack. Neery clings to her in a hug that is tearful now, her buoyant enthusiasm for the expedition waning now that the moment of Verrian's departure has actually arrived.

Gamnel's serious eyes are no longer angry, just worried, but with an understanding that wasn't present yesterday. She hugs him tightly, before Neery piles on again. Finally, she extricates herself from both siblings, sharing images of them studying, growing up strong and happy, becoming talented, productive adults. Make yourselves ready for when the world opens up to us all again, my sweets.

As Adaye enters the room, the younger two both take their physical and (relative) mental leave. You can be proud of them, Verrian. They are strong of will and quick of mind. You've done well, for all your reluctance to turn to teaching. Adaye's lips turn up to smile at the memory. She walks with Verrian toward the door, for the moment making their conversation private from others in the holding. There are two things you should know, neither of which I know as much about as I would like, so I hope you will understand if I can not provide all the answers you might wish. One, there seems to be a growing schism in Jade College between Master Iene and his followers, and Karok Silverhelm, who boasts a following of his own. I know your feelings on Master Iene, and they are well-justified... but Silverhelm plays a game of his own that has yet to see light outside of Jade. Be aware.

She falters then, strangely hesitant to continue. Her eyes drop to the floor, and she thinks privately a long, silent moment before continuing. The second. We know little of what you will face outside the wards, bright flame. But one name has reached us even through the wards, and you should know something of it. Be watchful for the name Garand Disos. We know almost nothing about him other than that he builds a following with the stated purpose of eradicating magic from the world. Learn what you can of him and his followers. Use the whitestone disk you have been given to communicate with Athisa. She can be trusted, if any of us can.

Verrian frowns slightly. To see Adaye unsure of herself is disconcerting. She commits the name Garand Disos to memory and promises to learn everything she can about his operation. But she has questions regarding the things Adaye has said about Silverhelm, as well.

Adaye, do you know why Karok put forth my name? Was it only to get one over on Aisurn?

I doubt it. You know your colleagues as well as I do... nothing is ever so simple as that. My sense is that Aisurn's long game -- of which you were a part -- is moving into a new phase, and Silverhelm is acting against it.

Reaching the outer doors to the holding, Adaye puts her hands on Verrian's shoulders and gives her a searching look. I know your inclination is to distrust everything the Master says and does, and rightfully so, but the enemy of your enemy is not always your friend. You don't have to like someone to agree with them, should it come to that. There is an image of a meeting of delegates in the Naucan capital, anger and frustration spread throughout the room, but eventually reaching a mutual decision about something meaningful. I fear that it might be tied into this business with Disos. Master Rothenend, she sends, an accompanying image of the Master of Whitestone, believes there is some connection to the elves of The Vaelt, and Master Iene has always looked to advance his homeland's agenda.

Verrian's mouth quirks in a tiny lopsided smile. So basically, trust no one. She sends an image of a feather tickling Adaye's chin to underscore the joke.

The comment catches Adaye by surprise, but it does bring a bright laugh forth and a rueful acknowledgement. I have been too long in this city, Verrian. I want to believe. But we all twist and twine and grow in on one another when we lack the ability to leave.. The image is of two trees forced to grow together in order to survive, but neither is healthy. Every action, every word, every tilt of the head is weighed and analyzed and searched for hidden meaning.

She steps forward and embraces Verrian. All the more reason for you to go, and help us move beyond.

Verrian hugs her tightly, projecting her love and endless thanks for her years of patient, loving guidance. I will do everything in my power.

Then she separates, wipes a single stray tear away, and with a nod of goodbye, heads out of the compound gate.

On the eleventh step, when she feels the kinship's influence fall away, she experiences a moment of profound loss and grief. She is leaving this place. She may never come back. It's entirely possible that she will never meet another Naucan or experience the easy joy of sharing one's deepest self effortlessly and without fear. This is unlike any leave-taking she has ever done, and it is suddenly terrifying, suddenly too outrageous a thing for anyone to expect of her, to leave behind her connectedness with no guarantee that she won't be cut off forever.

But then she feels it. No one ever truly leaves a kinship, bright flame. Remember this. It is so clear and direct that Verrian turns, expecting to see that Adaye has followed to help her through a crisis she'd anticipated. But no, she is still inside the compound fence, watching her but well outside of sharing range.

And for the first time, Verrian realize how potent the bonding ceremony truly is. Her previous two had been formalities, a means of sending her off with the knowledge she was valued. Last night's ceremony had been all of that, but also a fortification, a means of storing in her the distilled support and wisdom of the whole kinship in order to draw upon it in times of need.

Apparently, the system is working.

She smiles and waves one last time before walking away, her steps confident and resolute.