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Intuition and Insight(Bloodkiss-Cysma)

B

Bloodkiss

Star
Joined
Mar 7, 2009
Location
In your freezer.
Caoimhe stared at the fire before her, her face lined with exhaustion and depression. She'd been traveling for days through these woods, with very little supplies. She had been cast out, with no family to protect her from the judgement of the villagers. Her parents had died when she was twelve, and she had no brothers or sisters. She had taken the few belongings left in her family's home and some supplies from her father's blacksmith's shop. When he had died she had attempted to learn his trade, but succeeded only in making very basic tools and a shoddy iron sword to protect herself. So she had taken food, a few aritcles of clothing, the sword, a hammer, and a pair of calipers. She didn't know why she should ever need the hammer and calipers, but she couldn't bear to leave them. They were all that was left of her father. The villagers had called her mad, and at first had simply ignored her. But when she came of age, they accused her of witchcraft and blasphemy against the church. She had simply spoken her mind, and now she was forced to wander out into the world alone to prove that she wasn't insane and that fae really did exist. She stared up at the trees, the sky darkening already. Night would be upon her soon, and she was on the last of her food items. A bit of bread and some cheese was all that was left in her pack, but it would get her through tonight. She'd have to find something else tomorrow.
 
As the girl sat by the fire, the light it was creating, the smoke it was generating, drew the attention of another being like a moth. It made its way over to the campfire, making surprisingly little sound, and could barely be heard over the crackling flames. Finally, this being made itself known when it pushed aside the foliage across from where Caoimhe had been sitting. It was a man, a man unlike any Caoimhe had ever seen.

He had long white hair going down past his shoulders, hair white as snow. Or at least, it seemed like it, contrasted with his skin. His skin was black. Not like the brownish black of the humans living close to the equator, but obsidian black, black as night itself. He had an air of youth in the shape of his face, but the look in his blood-red eyes betrayed any suspicion of naivete. These features, however, were quite trivial in light of two other things that overshadowed his face in importance. First, his ears were long and had pointed ends unlike normal human ears. The other, was that this man wasn't wearing any clothing or anything at all on his body. Nothing was touching his obsidian skin. His lean build was illuminated in the firelight; the way it refracted off his skin gave him an appearance that shone with awe and intrigue.

"Do not be alarmed, I do not intend any harm." He spoke her Common tongue fluently, though his voice, somewhere between tenor and baritone in pitch, was seasoned with a hint of an exotic accent she may not have heard before.
 
Caoimhe shrieked in surprise, jumping up and drawing her sword from the scabbard at her hip. "Who are you, demon? What do you want with me? I've no money, if that's what you're after." She didn't believe his claim on benevolence. He looked frighteningly human, but startlingly ethereal. Her green eyes shone with distrust and wariness, and her red-gold hair was tied up in a messy, days-old knot at the back of her head. The hem of her plain brown dress was shredded from hiking through the woods and getting caught in brambles and mud, and she appeared so disheveled and tired that it didn't look like she could stand much longer, let alone defend herself. But her eyes, behind the caution, were full of defiance and strong will.
 
The man leaned back, figuring that he would look threatening if he had leaned forward instead. "I am Zayle, a humble Nakazuri Drow, and all I ask for is your assistance. May I approach you?" His tone of voice was calm throughout what he said. He hoped that he would get this message across to her.
 
She lowered the sword a degree, but still remained cautious. A woman alone in the woods at night could trust no strange spectre based on his word alone. "Approach..." Her voice was tinged with curiosity and the slightest bit of distrust. He was like nothing she'd ever seen before, and after a quick assessing glance she avoided looking beyond his eyes. She glanced to his hands every few seconds to make sure he was unarmed, but she avoided staring at his nakedness. In her eighteen winters she'd never seen a naked man, and it was an odd sight to behold. Though she was unsure if this was how a naked human male appeared, or if it was just how this strange man looked. She shook her head free of her thoughts upon the realization that her eyes had wandered and she was blushing furiously. "What is it that you seek?" Her eyes flicked back to his, her pale face still flushed with emberassment.
 
"I seek an answer..." Zayle said as he calmly walked towards her. "This marking on me...what does it mean? It had sudddenly appeared on me one day, and no one has been able to tell me what it does. Perhaps you might know someone with the answer?" He stepped closer so that she might examine the strange white runic mark on the shaft of his penis. It appeared to be a character in some unknown language.
 
Caoimhe blushed a deeper shade of red. She was unsure how to respond, if she should look down and examine the symbol, or if she should faint for modesty's sake. But, being the spitfire that she was, curiosity got the better of her and her morals fled. Glancing down, she frowned. "I recognize it, but I've no idea what it means, or where i've seen it before...I'm sorry. I don't know anyone else that would know." Her eyes quickly darted to her feet, her morals suddenly coming crashing back down and drowning her in shame. She just looked at a man naked. She was pretty sure that was a sin, according to the elders of her village and the church. She could hear the old women in the church halls yelling at her and damning her for eternity. But she supposed it did 't matter anymore. They had already said she'd go to hell for her blaspheming.
 
"You do recognize it, then!" Zayle's normally calm voice had gotten excited. "But perhaps you could work with your knowledge to find out what it means..." He suggested.

The drow looked a little upset when he noticed her averting her eyes afterward. "Is something wrong? Why do you not look at me? Am I not appealing to your eyes?" A tinge of sadness hung in his voice now.
 
Caoimhe blushed, her eyes meeting his for a moment before going to her hands, which were now knotted in front of her nervously. "No, well, Yes-I mean...You're as naked as the day you were born. It's startling..." She tried very hard to keep her eyes from wandering, and she was pretty sure this was how all men looked. Perhaps not as perfect, but something told her that this was a purely male body. And it made her feel very strange, a little bit dizzy, and suddenly flushed against the cold night. It was an odd sensation that she'd never had before, almost like she'd been running for some time and was winded from the exertion.
 
"I am a Nakazuri Drow." Zayle began to explain. "Our bodies are flawless, a blessing from Nature itself, so why would we deny it by wearing clothing? Such an awful thing made by humans..." He knelt down so that he was eye level with her, as he was 6'3", and she was sitting down. "Your perspective of what is normal and what is not has been perverted by humankind. They believe that it is normal to wear clothing when it is in fact unnatural!"
 
Caoimhe stood defiantly, still much shorter than him, reaching only 5'2". "I am simply being modest. Only a woman's family or husband should see her body naked." She blushed at her outburst, realizing that she was speaking the exact words fed to her by the old women in the church. "Who is to say that your opinion is not flawed as you claim ours is? What is so perfect about the body? It is a body, simply a vessel carrying a spirit. I see nothing lovely about my body that should be flaunted like some beaded necklace or painting!" She was blushing furiously, emberassed and confused by this strange man.
 
"Is this what humans are believing now?" Zayle sounded shocked. "We are so much more than vessels for spirits. Every living thing is a work of art; the artist is Mother Nature, and we humanoids are her masterpieces! It is shameful to try to challenge Her by creating clothes to hide what She has wonderfully made." He extended his hand to put it on one of her shoulders. "Why are you not telling me who YOU are, and I have told you everything I can? You are hiding much more than your body, I can tell!"
 
She blushed, her skin prickling under his touch. "I am hiding nothing. I was cast out of my village based on false accusations. I have no family. That is all there is to tell. I have become a wanderer recently. I am now trying to find a way to fix my reputation."
 
"What were these accusations?" Zayle said, curious. "If you will help me find out the meaning of this marking, and if I should remove it, then I will do what I can to clear your name? Is that a deal?" He stood up, now her head was probably at waist-level with him.
 
She frowned, turning and walking towards a nearby tree. She pressed her hand against the bark, leaning tiredly against it. "I was accused of witchcraft. And there's nothing anyone can do to fix my reputation. I should probably move on, but I'm not sure where to go..."
 
"If you are looking for a new place to live..." Zayle began, walking with her, "I would invite you to my home city. It is secluded deep in the forest, away from the public. If you wish to keep a low profile, my home would not be a bad place to stay."
 
Caoimhe slammed her fist against the tree. "I don't know what happened! I don't even know what it is that I did to cause them to think I am a witch." She took a deep breath and turned around once more. "I suppose I never really fit in there anyway. What is your home like?"
 
"We are quite peaceful, if I do say so myself." The drow replied. "A lot of us spend our time studying literature, history, alchemy, magic..."
 
She nodded, glancing back at the fire. "I was cast out of my village because they thought I used dark magic or some such nonsense. I didn't even know it existed." Suddenly she smiled hopefully. "Your people...do many of them study magic? Could I learn?"
 
"There are quite a few of my kind that studies magic, so yes. There would be controls on shy ones survive at see..."

EDIT: What was I trying to say here!?
 
Caoimhe's smile widened. "If there is a chance I might learn, I would join you. May I?" If she was going to be exiled because of something, she would at least know more about it. Curiosity always got the better of her. If she was accused of being a witch, she would explore the craft and find out more about it.
 
"Yes...of course you may come, as long as you do not bring harm to my people." Zayle said. "Also, I may suggest that you would be more welcome there if you were as natural as we are..."
 
It took a moment for her to process and understand what he meant. Her face flushed bright red and she stammered, trying to find the words to say. She wasn't sure if she would be comfortable around others who were naked, let alone if she herself were nude.
 
"Well, maybe they would still let you in if you were clothed, though you would stick out for being dressed." He said. "Do you have something I could sleep on?"
 
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