Meeting the Mountain (Jabal)
May 15, 2015 23:15:58 GMT -6
Post by Jabal on May 15, 2015 23:15:58 GMT -6
Sense? Feh, more like assume. It didn't take a seer to figure out that Jabal had no dragonstone; his questions made it quite obvious. Still, the man-dragon was right in say that the mountain lacked one, because he did, and it was all the more strange the way Aeos implied that it was abnormal not to have one. But he had answered, at least in part, two of Jabal's more important questions: why these 'dragonstones' even existed, and where they came from.
Something had happened to Elibe after the Scouring, something big enough to change it completely, and, Jabal figured, it was probably that happening to which he could attribute this feeling of displacement and foreigness that had been looming over him ever since his awakening. It was like water on skin, or rather the feeling of air on skin after leaving water. Something was missing. Something about the very makeup of the the air, the earth, and the water of Elibe had been transformed and twisted into something lesser than what it was, and sapped the very life out of the dragon, leaving him tired and powerless, hungering for something more.
The old Elibe, his home, the land where he had live for over 2000 years, was gone, and in its place had been left something else. This new world was such a drastic change that he could no longer be who he truly was, and was forced to walk around in this frail, weak little body. Even the way Aeos spoke to him was sad, how the younger dragon referred to their shared ancestral might as overwhelming, how he warned him not to take revenge on the humans who had denied him of the ability to live his life as himself. He had no idea! He had no knowledge of the world the humans had ruined, the majesty and splendor of it, where dragons walked free and strong in their most magnificent state. He was satisfied with the pathetic human form he was forced to live in and fearful of what the humans would do if they saw him. No dragon should have to live in such fear.
Jabal huffed loudly. So to restore himself to his true form, he was supposed to take a piece of his spirit and make it phyisical? That made no sense. First, how did one split his spirit in two? How did he take part of himself and make it not himself? And second, the spirit was immortal, ethereal, and destructive. It couldn't be turned into a rock. But apparently it could, at least if Aeos was telling the truth. But for Aeos the dragonstone had simply happened. Jabal had already lived a relative eternity. Had it already happened for him hile he was slumbering his years away in the ground? Was his once chance at restoring his draconic might sitting in a hole in Ostia? Jabal mentally shook his head. No. He didn't feel like an empty vessel. He felt like a seive. It wasn't that his power was gone, but that it was leaking out of his every pore.
But before the dragon could ask any more questions, Aeos ended his train of thought. Was it morning already?
"I can find my own way," Jabal replied, rising to his feet. He spoke in the common tongue again. "The dead are of little consequence." He stretched out his arms and looked through a gap in a nearby wall, towards the mountains. Now Nabata, that was a name he knew. It had been the human name for his homeland. He gave Aeos an ominous look. "And I cannot promise you anything, boy. Know that when I find this dragonstone of mine, the very mountains will bow to me. If the humans take notice, they will look on in awe." The Mountain shook his head and made a noise that sounded like something between amusment and derision. It seemed to be not only the humans that had grown complacent during his slumber. "Or fear. Either is acceptable to me."
Something had happened to Elibe after the Scouring, something big enough to change it completely, and, Jabal figured, it was probably that happening to which he could attribute this feeling of displacement and foreigness that had been looming over him ever since his awakening. It was like water on skin, or rather the feeling of air on skin after leaving water. Something was missing. Something about the very makeup of the the air, the earth, and the water of Elibe had been transformed and twisted into something lesser than what it was, and sapped the very life out of the dragon, leaving him tired and powerless, hungering for something more.
The old Elibe, his home, the land where he had live for over 2000 years, was gone, and in its place had been left something else. This new world was such a drastic change that he could no longer be who he truly was, and was forced to walk around in this frail, weak little body. Even the way Aeos spoke to him was sad, how the younger dragon referred to their shared ancestral might as overwhelming, how he warned him not to take revenge on the humans who had denied him of the ability to live his life as himself. He had no idea! He had no knowledge of the world the humans had ruined, the majesty and splendor of it, where dragons walked free and strong in their most magnificent state. He was satisfied with the pathetic human form he was forced to live in and fearful of what the humans would do if they saw him. No dragon should have to live in such fear.
Jabal huffed loudly. So to restore himself to his true form, he was supposed to take a piece of his spirit and make it phyisical? That made no sense. First, how did one split his spirit in two? How did he take part of himself and make it not himself? And second, the spirit was immortal, ethereal, and destructive. It couldn't be turned into a rock. But apparently it could, at least if Aeos was telling the truth. But for Aeos the dragonstone had simply happened. Jabal had already lived a relative eternity. Had it already happened for him hile he was slumbering his years away in the ground? Was his once chance at restoring his draconic might sitting in a hole in Ostia? Jabal mentally shook his head. No. He didn't feel like an empty vessel. He felt like a seive. It wasn't that his power was gone, but that it was leaking out of his every pore.
But before the dragon could ask any more questions, Aeos ended his train of thought. Was it morning already?
"I can find my own way," Jabal replied, rising to his feet. He spoke in the common tongue again. "The dead are of little consequence." He stretched out his arms and looked through a gap in a nearby wall, towards the mountains. Now Nabata, that was a name he knew. It had been the human name for his homeland. He gave Aeos an ominous look. "And I cannot promise you anything, boy. Know that when I find this dragonstone of mine, the very mountains will bow to me. If the humans take notice, they will look on in awe." The Mountain shook his head and made a noise that sounded like something between amusment and derision. It seemed to be not only the humans that had grown complacent during his slumber. "Or fear. Either is acceptable to me."