Liminality (short story): Difference between revisions
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==Kingfisher== |
==Kingfisher== |
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OOC: This vignette is written to mark the addition of a custom kingfisher (won by Rohese at Ebon Gate 2025) to several rooms around Cysaegir as part of the [[Jeepers Creepers]] line. |
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The tranquillity of the Glimae'den Wildwood never failed to lift Rohese's spirits. Sleep had not come easy to her since her visit to Nendelomea for Lornon's Eve. Rohese had so many questions, but she still wasn't ready to forgive her grandfather enough to speak with him, so she kept to the kitchen and back stairs during her brief stay. As far as her inquiries went, Mimini had claimed ignorance for the most part, citing it was Bayvel family business and nothing to do with her. She was staunchly loyal to Eairion and was not about to abuse the trust he had put in her position as his housekeeper. |
The tranquillity of the Glimae'den Wildwood never failed to lift Rohese's spirits. Sleep had not come easy to her since her visit to Nendelomea for Lornon's Eve. Rohese had so many questions, but she still wasn't ready to forgive her grandfather enough to speak with him, so she kept to the kitchen and back stairs during her brief stay. As far as her inquiries went, Mimini had claimed ignorance for the most part, citing it was Bayvel family business and nothing to do with her. She was staunchly loyal to Eairion and was not about to abuse the trust he had put in her position as his housekeeper. |
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Revision as of 08:53, 2 February 2026
Title: Liminality
Author: Rohese Bayvel
First published on the 3rd day of Eorgaen in the year 5124.
Following on from her unfortunate encounter with her sister, Poladra, this is a repository of vignettes around Rohese's continued story.
Prologue
"Liminality /ˌlɪməˈnælɪti/ Liminality is a quality of being in between two places or stages, on the verge of transitioning to something new. Periods of liminality are transitional, sometimes disorienting, and frequently involve waiting for something new to begin. Liminality is rooted in the idea of a threshold (limen in Latin), a kind of doorway between the past and the future."
Rohese was struggling but, with the help of her glamour, she was able to convince her grandfather and Mimini that she was coping with Mirkk's absence. It had been three months since his departure; a blink of an eye to an elf but she felt every minute of every day as if each were a century passed.
Her grandfather had reassured her that his journey west had been imperative and that he had to go alone. Eairion would not be drawn on the reasons and all Rohese's protestations – her many tearful and angry outbursts – had fallen on deaf ears. She simply spent her time between home and Nendelomea in a state of sullen acceptance. Mimini's futile attempts to placate her with freshly baked lemon cookies and ripe summer berries went unappreciated and Ipsy had all but given up trying to engage her with her new-found skills in starstone divination .
Feeling lost and numb, Rohese aimlessly wandered the surrounding woodlands of her family home oblivious to everything around her.
Anniversary
A yellowing leaf drifted down from the tree and landed in her lap. It was closely followed by a second and a third as an errant breeze ruffled the branches and dislodged the first of the turning leaves.
Rohese sat in the lengthening shadow of the ancient oak, as she had done for most of the summer, and barely noticed the subtle changes in the season. There was a slight chill in the air as the day drew to a close and faint smell of petrichor from the brief rain shower earlier that day. She picked up the leaf and her thoughts drifted back to the Glimae'den. A sharp pain pierced her heart as Mirkk's face appeared before her and, closing her eyes tightly, she quickly brushed the memory aside for fear of being overwhelmed once again by a deep-seated sense of loss. Today was their third wedding anniversary.
She had a vague recollection of Mimini passing her a book at dinner the night before. Instinctively opening it to peruse the contents, Rohese had noted that the pages were all blank and the housekeeper had written one word on the facing page, "Liminality." Looking up at the gnome to question it, Mimini had simply said, "Write it all down." She had squeezed Rohese's hand gently and left her to ponder its meaning.
In the solitude of that moment, Rohese began to understand. She was going to have to come to terms with this unforeseen change in her circumstances. Keeping a journal would hopefully help her transition from the immature elf of the past hundred years to the elf she was destined to become.
Her hand reached inside her satchel that had been casually tossed on the ground beside her and soon felt the warmth of supple leather. Lifting the small book to her nose, she was struck by how comforting she found the smell of leather and parchment and quietly thanked the beloved housekeeper for her wisdom. Slipping the leaf between two of the blank pages, her thoughts turned to what she would write.
"Liminal space; it's where you are in between who you were and who you will be. It's your becoming.
An untitled poem (written by Rohese in the style of Tolkien's, The Trees of Kortirion) In a shadowed glen where pale moon lies, There stands an oak, old as stars' first song, Its leaves are gold when autumn whispers sighs, And silvered boughs when winter nights grow long. Beneath its limbs, in days before, we walked, Hand in hand, where time was but a dream, Our laughter mingled with the brook that talked, And love was endless as the sky's bright gleam. But now the wind is but a hollow moan, That sweeps the vale where once our hearts did swell, The oak stands tall, but I am all alone, And echoes fade where once they rose and fell. His voice, a memory that haunts my night, His touch, a ghost that lingers in the shade, The brook flows on, but I have lost the light, And in the glen, our vows threaten to fade. Nendelomea, with thy ancient trees, Thy whispers hold the sorrows of the past, For love, like leaves, is taken by the breeze, And only shadows of its grace can last. Yet still I wander where the oak tree stands, And still I listen for his whispered call, For in this place, where once we joined our hands, I wait for him beneath the twilight's fall.
Stargazing
Rohese sat at the edge of the lake, her knees drawn to her chest as she gazed at the night sky. The vast expanse above was a sea of endless stars, each one a silent witness to her heartache. The cool breeze whispered through the hanging boughs of willow that concealed her from view, carrying with it the faint scent of leaf and loam.
Her fingers absently traced the ring on her finger, the one he had given her on their wedding day, that now felt like a lifetime ago. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, the way his hand had fit perfectly around hers, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle meant to be together. But now, all that remained were memories, slipping through her grasp like sand.
A lone tear escaped her eye, glistening in the moonlight as it traced a path down her cheek. She had come here every night since he had gone, searching the heavens for a sign, anything to tell her that he was still with her in some way. But the stars remained indifferent, distant, and cold.
Just as she was about to close her eyes, a streak of light shot across the sky. A shooting star, brief and brilliant, cutting through the darkness with a flash of hope. Rohese's breath caught in her throat as she watched it fade, her heart aching with the bittersweet beauty of the moment.
She whispered his name, her voice trembling with the weight of her longing. "I miss you."
The star vanished, swallowed by the night, but in that fleeting moment, Rohese felt something stir deep within her - a quiet, fragile sense of peace. It was as if the universe had acknowledged her grief, offering a sliver of comfort in return.
As she gazed up at the stars, she realized that perhaps he was not as far away as she had thought. He was in the night sky, in the whisper of the wind, in the memories that would live on in her heart. And for the first time since he had left, Rohese allowed herself to believe that she would be okay.
Remember
The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted up as Rohese opened the package. Mimini, her grandfather's dutiful housekeeper, had sent the solstice gift basket as she did every year, and this year was no different despite the current rift between the two members of the Bayvel household.
Rohese had not spoken to her grandfather, Eairion, for over two years; not since he had flatly refused to explain why her husband, Mirkk, had returned to Bourth. They were both as stubborn as each other so Mimini's attempts at reconciliation were getting a little desperate now.
Rohese carefully lifted the parchment-wrapped bundle of cookies from the basket and placed them to one side. She peered into the basket again with a child-like excitement. Mimini's solstice baskets were always full of thoughtful little gifts and treats that reminded Rohese of the happier times spent with family growing up.
Lifting them out and examining them one-by-one, she sighed but then chided herself. She would not allow nostalgia to cause her to waver in her belief that Eairion was responsible for Mirkk's sudden departure. That was until she spotted the little box at the bottom of the basket with strange sigils scribbled all over it in her grandfather's spidery handwriting. It was their secret language; made up when Rohese was just a small child. Eairion would leave coded messages or clues around the house and gardens for her to decipher and follow to some "buried treasure" (usually chocolate). It had kept her amused for hours and, more importantly, out of his way while he worked. As much as he adored his bright and inquisitive granddaughter, she was rather prone to asking a lot of questions!
Turning the box this way and that, Rohese slowly decoded the message and began to cry. She recognised the phrase immediately; it was the inscription on the inside of her wedding ring. Rohese opened the little box and inside was the wyrwood ring Eairion had passed to Mirkk for Rohese. It had originally belonged to her grandmother, but Rohese had given the ring back in protest when she and Eairion had last argued and she had left the house vowing never to return again. In that moment, she was reminded that her grandparents had been separated for centuries but their love had endured.
Folded around the band was a slip of paper that simply read, "Remember."
Kingfisher
OOC: This vignette is written to mark the addition of a custom kingfisher (won by Rohese at Ebon Gate 2025) to several rooms around Cysaegir as part of the Jeepers Creepers line.
The tranquillity of the Glimae'den Wildwood never failed to lift Rohese's spirits. Sleep had not come easy to her since her visit to Nendelomea for Lornon's Eve. Rohese had so many questions, but she still wasn't ready to forgive her grandfather enough to speak with him, so she kept to the kitchen and back stairs during her brief stay. As far as her inquiries went, Mimini had claimed ignorance for the most part, citing it was Bayvel family business and nothing to do with her. She was staunchly loyal to Eairion and was not about to abuse the trust he had put in her position as his housekeeper.
When had House Bayvel become a house of secrets and lies?
Rohese had walked for an hour to try and clear her thoughts, her bare feet instinctively taking her to her usual quiet spot deep within the ancient woods. Bathed in the late afternoon's golden sunlight that filtered through the canopy of dark green leaves, she found solace by the side of a murmuring stream. The air carried the soft symphony of rustling leaves and babbling water as it tumbled over rocks, creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped her in a sense of peacefulness.
Seating herself on a smooth, moss-covered boulder, Rohese pulled at her hairstick and let her cool silver hair cascade down her back like a moonlit waterfall. Clad in a simple velvet gown of viridian green that blended seamlessly with the surroundings, she seemed to become an integral part of the forest itself.
Now in quiet contemplation, her fingers traced the surface of the cool, clear water, creating ripples that mirrored the thoughts meandering through her mind. She missed Mirkk; he would understand her frustration. Time seemed to slow as she absorbed the gentle rhythm of the stream, lost in the ebb and flow of her own musings.
In the midst of her reverie, a sudden burst of vibrant colour and motion caught Rohese's attention. With a flash of brilliant azure and orange, a kingfisher darted into view, its wings a streak of iridescent brilliance against the verdant backdrop. She watched, with reverence, as the kingfisher alighted on a slender branch arching over the stream. The bird's feathers shimmered in the dappled sunlight, each hue merging and separating like a painter's brushstrokes upon a canvas of air.
Rohese held her breath for a moment as she and the kingfisher shared a silent connection; a shared moment of appreciation for the simple wonder of existence. Rohese's lips curved into a serene smile, a reflection of the joy that the kingfisher's presence had brought to their contemplative solitude. In that fleeting encounter, she found a reminder that even in the depths of melancholia, the world was alive with magic and unexpected beauty.
The kingfisher took flight once more, a streak of colour against the sky, and Rohese's gaze followed its path until it was swallowed by the canopy. Returning to her quiet reverie, her thoughts flowed like the stream beside her. She kept coming back to her sister's last words: "For all that love supposedly brightens, dear sister, it casts a long shadow. To lose true love is the path to darkness. One day, you will understand this too because you will lose him, whether to time or to another."
Now I understand.