07-19-2016, 09:23 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-19-2016, 09:27 PM by The Humble Sage.
Edit Reason: forgot to put the link in the quote at the bottom, sorry!
)
“…And the knife waxed red as the Moon waxed dark again.” The Sage finished, his two Zora fellows regarding him from across the small fire they had made. The tale had taken some time, and the sun had dipped beneath the flowing waves a good few hours ago. There was a silence for a time, the older Zora staring into the fire while his brother put the finishing touches on the pledged tunic. The Sage watched them from across the crackling pile of brush and driftwood.
“That is not a pleasant story.” Crota said after the silence was over. The Sage shook his head.
“Pleasant stories serve only to put us at peace, lull our suspicions, let us rest.” He leaned back, resting on his hands, trying to stretch after sitting in the same position for so long. “We are at peace, I suspect you of little, and there is no time for me to rest. Therefore, I have instead chosen a story for the wary.” He stretched slightly, shaking feeling back into stiffened limbs. “The world is not forgiving, neither should our vision of it be so. We must face the horrors with full knowledge of their existence. Anything less is willful ignorance.” The Zora did not reply, and instead simply watched him in the flickering light. Without further words the Sage turned to regard the younger Zora, whom he realized he still did not know the name of. The tailor held up the garment, surveying it with a critical eye, before threading a last stitch into place.
“That story was passable. By which I mean it served to pass the time.” He gave the Sage a wry grin, evidently pleased with his own wit. “Consider it a down-payment on an incomplete masterpiece.” He said, handing the tunic to the Sage, who raised an eyebrow at the last part of the statement. “You are one who is prime, you will certainly be imperiled at some point in the future, and while this tunic will prevent you from drowning, it will do little to turn away a blade. I do not have the tools with me here, but if you were to seek me out at my own workshop I think this piece will serve as a fine base for a suit of Zoran armor.” Crota’s head turned abruptly to look at his brother. He said nothing, but the frown on his face was more than sufficient for the Sage to understand him. “Of course, the one brief yarn you have spun for me thus far would not be a fair trade for such a gift, but I have no doubt you have more stories than that one in your repertoire.” The young Zora said almost smugly.
“That is an intriguing proposition.” The Sage said honestly, “And one I may well take you up on in times to come. For now, I do not seek for battle, and thus armor would serve only as a hindrance. This tunic will more than suffice if it does what you claim it can.” He added, a touch of skepticism still remaining. The Zoras had little to gain from deceiving him, but even so he did not trust entirely to their altruism either. There was something to this exchange he was not understanding, and the knowledge of his ignorance gnawed at the back of his mind like a bothersome rash. Crota gave a short, somewhat tightened laugh.
“No need to fear that, One from the distance, my brother’s craft is second to none!” he said it jovially enough, but his eyes were not smiling as much as his face. He has gotten unnerved by the conversations this evening. The Sage was mildly disappointed that Crota was unsettled by his tale, though he knew full well why. It seemed he did not like what his brother had said about the armor either however. Again the lack of information irked him, that dislike was significant in some way, he was sure of it. He accepted the proffered tunic and looked it over. It was quite clearly well made, and there was no denying that it even possessed the faint aura of energy one often got in the presence of magical items. It would serve for the time being at the very least.
There was an almost embarrassed cough, and the Sage looked up to see the Zora holding out another piece of cloth. It was the same material and color as the tunic, but smaller. The Sage took it, holding the blue-toned stocking cap with a look of confusion and mild disdain. He glanced back at the Zora, who was almost pink with embarrassment. “It… er… It’s needed to… ehm… make the tunic’s magic function.” The Zora swallowed before continuing, “Without the… hat… the magic would not extend to your head as well. Rendering the whole concept moot!” he finished in a rush.
“ And I assume that the design of this hat was the most efficient for traversing the waves?” the Sage asked sarcastically. The young Zora’s embarrassment was quite evident now, and he fumbled for some sort of reply.
“It’s to evoke the Spirit of our people, prime.” Crota crossed his arms and fixed the Sage with what could be construed as a challenging look. “So you do not forget the ones this power was granted you by.” He was pointedly staring at the Sage now, who returned his steely gaze without concern. He would not be cowed by everyone he ran across, and he did not find his chances unfavorable if this conversation spiraled into physical conflict.
Still the situation had notably soured, and it seemed unlikely to improve. It would be time for the Sage to move on shortly. He still was a few days out from Cinnibar itself, and he doubted his own speed could match that of the boat he had been using, despite this new garment he had been given. He stood, thanking the two Zoras for their time and hospitality. “Perhaps I will seek you out in the future, if my travels take a more military turn.” He said to the younger Zora, and with that he bid the two of them farewell and moved off a short distance to change.
The Tunic fit him surprisingly well, and he packed the rest of his belongings into the satchel on the tunic. He couldn’t deny the quality of the outfit, and he took a moment to admire the threading. Though he would deny it, he was slightly excited to put the new outfit to work. If it could do as promised, then a new world of possibilities was opening before him. He crossed the short stretch of beach, and waded into the shallows. It was time he reached Cinnibar Island.
“That is not a pleasant story.” Crota said after the silence was over. The Sage shook his head.
“Pleasant stories serve only to put us at peace, lull our suspicions, let us rest.” He leaned back, resting on his hands, trying to stretch after sitting in the same position for so long. “We are at peace, I suspect you of little, and there is no time for me to rest. Therefore, I have instead chosen a story for the wary.” He stretched slightly, shaking feeling back into stiffened limbs. “The world is not forgiving, neither should our vision of it be so. We must face the horrors with full knowledge of their existence. Anything less is willful ignorance.” The Zora did not reply, and instead simply watched him in the flickering light. Without further words the Sage turned to regard the younger Zora, whom he realized he still did not know the name of. The tailor held up the garment, surveying it with a critical eye, before threading a last stitch into place.
“That story was passable. By which I mean it served to pass the time.” He gave the Sage a wry grin, evidently pleased with his own wit. “Consider it a down-payment on an incomplete masterpiece.” He said, handing the tunic to the Sage, who raised an eyebrow at the last part of the statement. “You are one who is prime, you will certainly be imperiled at some point in the future, and while this tunic will prevent you from drowning, it will do little to turn away a blade. I do not have the tools with me here, but if you were to seek me out at my own workshop I think this piece will serve as a fine base for a suit of Zoran armor.” Crota’s head turned abruptly to look at his brother. He said nothing, but the frown on his face was more than sufficient for the Sage to understand him. “Of course, the one brief yarn you have spun for me thus far would not be a fair trade for such a gift, but I have no doubt you have more stories than that one in your repertoire.” The young Zora said almost smugly.
“That is an intriguing proposition.” The Sage said honestly, “And one I may well take you up on in times to come. For now, I do not seek for battle, and thus armor would serve only as a hindrance. This tunic will more than suffice if it does what you claim it can.” He added, a touch of skepticism still remaining. The Zoras had little to gain from deceiving him, but even so he did not trust entirely to their altruism either. There was something to this exchange he was not understanding, and the knowledge of his ignorance gnawed at the back of his mind like a bothersome rash. Crota gave a short, somewhat tightened laugh.
“No need to fear that, One from the distance, my brother’s craft is second to none!” he said it jovially enough, but his eyes were not smiling as much as his face. He has gotten unnerved by the conversations this evening. The Sage was mildly disappointed that Crota was unsettled by his tale, though he knew full well why. It seemed he did not like what his brother had said about the armor either however. Again the lack of information irked him, that dislike was significant in some way, he was sure of it. He accepted the proffered tunic and looked it over. It was quite clearly well made, and there was no denying that it even possessed the faint aura of energy one often got in the presence of magical items. It would serve for the time being at the very least.
There was an almost embarrassed cough, and the Sage looked up to see the Zora holding out another piece of cloth. It was the same material and color as the tunic, but smaller. The Sage took it, holding the blue-toned stocking cap with a look of confusion and mild disdain. He glanced back at the Zora, who was almost pink with embarrassment. “It… er… It’s needed to… ehm… make the tunic’s magic function.” The Zora swallowed before continuing, “Without the… hat… the magic would not extend to your head as well. Rendering the whole concept moot!” he finished in a rush.
“ And I assume that the design of this hat was the most efficient for traversing the waves?” the Sage asked sarcastically. The young Zora’s embarrassment was quite evident now, and he fumbled for some sort of reply.
“It’s to evoke the Spirit of our people, prime.” Crota crossed his arms and fixed the Sage with what could be construed as a challenging look. “So you do not forget the ones this power was granted you by.” He was pointedly staring at the Sage now, who returned his steely gaze without concern. He would not be cowed by everyone he ran across, and he did not find his chances unfavorable if this conversation spiraled into physical conflict.
Still the situation had notably soured, and it seemed unlikely to improve. It would be time for the Sage to move on shortly. He still was a few days out from Cinnibar itself, and he doubted his own speed could match that of the boat he had been using, despite this new garment he had been given. He stood, thanking the two Zoras for their time and hospitality. “Perhaps I will seek you out in the future, if my travels take a more military turn.” He said to the younger Zora, and with that he bid the two of them farewell and moved off a short distance to change.
The Tunic fit him surprisingly well, and he packed the rest of his belongings into the satchel on the tunic. He couldn’t deny the quality of the outfit, and he took a moment to admire the threading. Though he would deny it, he was slightly excited to put the new outfit to work. If it could do as promised, then a new world of possibilities was opening before him. He crossed the short stretch of beach, and waded into the shallows. It was time he reached Cinnibar Island.
Quote:For those interested in the story told by the Sage, (Drawings of the moon) part one is currently found here, the remainder will be put up hopefully pretty soon!
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4,790 words total.
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.