The Dance

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Shyressa
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The Dance

Postby Shyressa » Fri Aug 10, 2007 8:36 pm

This is pretty much one of the first real stories I wrote a while back, I am going to post a link to download it in pdf format for those who might prefer it that way as well as post it in here. Please feel free to comment on it, but be gentle since it is one of my first tries LOL!

Anyway, heres the link to download the story in pdf format(click me)

The Dance

The trees closed in tight, moonlight, where it broke through the canopy, nothing but thin, sheer ribbons, granting a hazy, almost dream-like quality to the path. The unicorn paused, ears erect, twitching. A sudden flash, the great horned head swinging around, the massive body coiling, ready for fight or flight. The luminous eyes surveyed the impenetratable darkness, the motes floating in the moonlight adding a halo to the scene. Great nostrils billowing, the breaths thundering in and out of the great beast’s lungs. Throwing the massive head around, taking one more look around, the beast continued her trek, the mighty hooves barely making a sound.

Blacker than black, a shadow breezes through the trees ahead of the beast, she pauses, watching and smiling. As quickly as thought, she shadow is gone, disappearing into the blackness.

The sky starts releasing its burden, great flakes of snow tumbling to earth. The unicorn glances upwards, the silver horn gleaming in the moonlight, eyes closed in the perfect ness of the world around her. The snow gathers strength, as if sensing the beast’s delight in it’s falling, falling in greater amounts. Shaking, the magnificent beast presses on, the time close at hand.

She pauses again, this time at a tiny clearing on the path, full of moonlight and glistening snow, tilting her great head, the barest of smiles crossing the enchanting face. She watches as the snow swirls and gathers in the moonlight, spinning faster. Slowly a dark form appears within the snow. The snow billows, forming into long strands of silvery hair, softly glowing from within. Slowly the blade of a great silver sword slides from within the swirling snow, joined by a glossy black foot and leg. The snow gathers and thickens, darkening in places, glowing from within with a silvery sheen in others, as the gleaming dark figure fully emerges from the moonlight, stepping delicately upon the snowy ground. She shakes the head, causing the silvery hair to swirl and fly about her lithe, nude body. She looks across the small clearing, luminous eyes alighting upon the form of the great unicorn.

“My dear friend,” she says in a voice as delicate and beautiful as she, “You honor me and the one I come to dance with tonight.”

“It is I, that is honored as well Dark Maiden,” the unicorn replies, the voice surprisingly very feminine and soft. “This one is truly wonderful and tonight the realms will be diminished.”

“Yes she shall be sorely missed by some and is much beloved by myself and others. But come my friend, let us not be late.”

The great unicorn, nimbly steps forward, joining the Dark Maiden as she sets off into the forest. Many who would see the two walking thus might be shocked, however, despite her appearance, the great unicorn knew the Dark Maiden to be one of peace, a lover of beauty and music, and while it was an unlikely pairing, the unicorn knew that their paths are of similar course throughout the whole of Faerun.

They approached a hilltop glade, a wide open clearing, with great stones surrounding the perimeter and in the middle a small fire, that seemed to leave the snow untouched around it. As if sensing the arrival of the goddess, the clouds broke, the glade suddenly bursting into light, the snow on the ground glistening with the inner light of myriad crystals. Motes of moonlight, drifted and gathered in front of the pair, forming a serenely beautiful face, smiling at them.

“My gift to the one you dance with tonight Eilistraee,” the face said, “May the light shine forever more in her soul.”

“Selune, tis truly beautiful,” the dark figure answered, “thank you for this great gift.”
“Tis nothing,” the face of Selune answered, “as she and hers spread light into the lives of many, it is only fitting that there be light for her.”

Then just as quickly as the face formed, the motes of moonlight started falling away, forming tears the seemed to vanish before hitting the ground.

The great unicorn turned her head, peering through the darkness and snow. Then returned her gaze to the dark form beside her, seeing her return her gaze back from the darkness as well.

“She comes, but slowly and wearily. I shall go and ease her journey to you,” she told the Dark Maiden.

Eilistraee smiled, her face and eyes glowing in the light. “Thank you my friend. This one has struggled long enough, let ease and comfort find her tonight.”

The unicorn turned and bounded into the trees, leaving no trace of her leaving upon air or snow.

**********

Sword dipped, heavily furrowing a deep gash through the snow, as an ancient drow leaned against a tree, her breathing in short, ragged gasps. Yet as weary as her body was, her eyes shone full of love and with the wonders she has seen and is going to see.

She pushes away from the tree, walking blindly forward, trusting her soul to guide her unerringly to her destination. The brush and trees grab and catch upon her diaphanous gown, ripping and tearing it, thorns ripping away pieces of it, yet none touch her skin, once a gleaming, beautiful black as glowing as the obsidian in light, yet now dull and creased with the weight of years. The remains of her gown catch and rip away from her fragile body, yet she notices it not, as she moves through the darkness.

Her path widens ahead, suddenly filling with moonlight, as a great unicorn steps forth from the darkness. The unicorn walks up to her, glowing eyes meeting luminous eyes, motes of moonlight sparkling and shining like a nimbus around the great beast.

“Greetings upon thee, Revered One,” the unicorn says in its soft feminine voice, “I have come to join and ease you on your journey to meet the Dark Maiden. Great have been your adventures, long as been your life, and beautiful the songs you have sung, but tonight I think the greatest song you will ever sing will be sung.”

The dark elf gasps, taken aback by the wondrous words and the magnificent presence beside her. Knowing that she couldn’t and in fact did not want to refuse such an offer, she bows tot eh beautiful creature before her.

“You honor me beyond measure, I should be greatly pleased for the company,” the old one answered.

The unicorn’s eyes shone brighter, as she stepped around and beside the priestess, “It would please me greatly as well to share this part of your journey,” she replied.

Together the two, drow and unicorn, walked through the softly falling snow. The ancient priestess continuously glancing at the unicorn, and the unicorn pretending to not notice. Finally, the old priestess could stand it no longer, and stopped looking at the unicorn directly. The unicorn stopped and turned her great head to stare at the priestess, a faint smile on her face.

“Do I know you great one,” the old drow started, “I feel like I should, but it slips from My old memories.”

“I have many names, to a great many creatures,” the unicorn replied, “But you may call me, Lurue.”

The ancient drow gasped again, another goddess walking upon her path, her joy of the night increased. “But why accompany me Unicorn Goddess?” the old one asked.

“Consider it a token of my respect of the deeds you have performed to those in my care over the years,” answered the goddess, “as well as the respect for the one you venerate.”

The old drow smiled brightly, and continued her trek, walking beside the unicorn goddess for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, the sword, once held with such power and resolve, wavers, then slips from fingers barely able to grasp it. The ancient body comes close to following it to the ground, instead sinking upon her weary knees, head bent, chest heaving.

Lurue stops, and turns, staring at the old priestess, tenderness in her eyes. “Can you make it Revered One or might I offer you a place on my back?”

The old priestess glances up, smiling faintly, the answer in her eyes, of the spirit being more than willing, but the body once again failing her.

The great beast kneels beside her, letting the priestess lean across her massive body, and pull herself upon the mighty back, black fingers searching and the grasping the hilt of her sword as the goddess climbs to her feet, and resumes the walk. The ancient drow leans her head against the soft neck and silky mane, absorbing the latest in a long stream of memories. This riding and touching of the Unicorn Goddess. Lurue, sensing the thoughts and emotions of the weary priestess, smiles, and starts walking upon the air to offer the ancient drow a smooth ride.

The thin threads of an ancient melody weaves its way through the trees, reaching the ears of drow and goddess alike. It is not one the drow knows, yet her soul has been singing parts of it for some time now, and now the rest fills in the final parts, and without knowing it she picks up the threads, singing with the melody, her voice at first crackling with age, but growing stronger with every step the pair takes. Lurue smiles mournfully, it has begun.

The unicorn pauses just outside the clearing, the stones covered higher in snow, yet her eyes follow the glossy-skinned goddess dancing within them, hearing the hauntingly beautiful melody Eilistraee is singing, and hearing the ancient priestess echoing it, her voice gaining more and more strength.

Shaking her head, Lurue turns, looking at the priestess. “I can take you no further Revered One. This journey is one that you must complete yourself,” she said.

“Thank you for the kindness you have shown me Lady Lurue, this has been a truly blessed night,” the old drow answered.

“Fear not, the night is not over yet and perhaps we will meet again amongst the forests of Arvandor,” Lurue replied as she leaned down to allow the old priestess to slide from her back. She continues to watch the drow, whose eyes are filled with nothing but the sight of her deity dancing, singing and beckoning her to join. The ancient drow steps into the light of the glade, her voice gaining even more strength.

Lurue continues to watch as the aged drow lifts the sword, dancing the spinning and swirling counter-point to her goddess’s dance, steps slow and shaky. The two voices lift higher, spectral music echoing amidst the woods.

The swords flash and gleam, silver streaks trailing motes of moonlight in their wakes. Circling and spinning, twirling and leaping, the goddess and the priestess dance, the old one’s steps becoming faster and surer, letting the dance increase its tempo as their voices raise higher in song. The light grows brighter, shining upon the skin of the two drow dancing. The ancient priestess, voiced lifted in song, body engaged in the ancient dance she does not know and yet knows to the core of her being, fails to notice her skin smoothing, the creases of her great age softening, disappearing, her skin gleaming with the once lost gloss of youth, nor does she notice her steps coming faster, the tempo of the dance approaching its crescendo, nor does she even notice the fact that her hair, once a bilious mane of white, has gained the silver radiance of her goddess. Her eyes are affixed on Eilistraee’s, her heart once straining to beat, now swelling with the love she feels returned to her from her cherished goddess.

Lurue watches, a bittersweet smile on her face. Turning her head, her ears flick, then she returns her gaze to the dancing duo. Seeing their bodies becoming more and more translucent, seeing the look of wondrous joy on the face of the priestess, now looking as young as a drow maid. Seeing the look of all-encompassing love radiating from the goddess to her priestess.

‘It is almost complete,’ she thinks to herself, ‘soon the eternal circle will be complete and start again.’

**********

Elsewhere in the forest, a gathering of drow, elves and other races, look up and across the forest, noticing the great beam of light shining down. Many faces are tear-stained, not with grief as much as in joy for their sister. Thin threads of a haunting, melancholy and tender song wash over the village, dropping many to their knees, weeping openly, thoughts and prayers flying to their goddess and the beloved priestess she is gathering to her bosom this night.

Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the light fades, the song and music drift away on the winds, leaving the village in absolute silence. These moments continue, then suddenly is shattered by the wailing and cries of a newborn. And the village is bathed in the luminance of moonlight shingin down upon the hut of the recent birth.

Yes, the circle begins anew……..

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