The Hunt for Color <open>

[Lady Eirian Gwenyth Apollius]

Eirian saw the world in dimensions of multi-faceted color. A diamond wasn't clear, but made up of the sparkle of one hundred rainbows. The face of a girl was two shades of peach, one of rogue, and three blues for her eyes. The Lady Artisan was at last taking on the bulk of her full station's work after the end of the war. A handful of students became so many that her ledgers were filled with ten pages of names worth of ages, faces, and such of those who clutched books to their chest, arms filled with supplies.

The small woman was on the verge of a great reality, and when the dawn of that day touched the alabaster countenance, it found her smiling. Eirian Kushrenada took the knowledge of a cloister nun and gave it to young women who would have been no more than pretty. Philosophy and rhetoric broadened the ambition of the squire. Of the arts? Why, the commisions she took on were steadily becoming the talk that was centered with her name amidst excellence. Eirian Kushrenada - Patron and Mistress of Enrichment for the Mind and Soul - Artist of Books, Threads, and Colors.

Humility prevented her from basking in a glaring light, but the halo of prestige was better comprised of sunshine locked over the crowning glory of a woman's hair in a brilliant spring day. Under the watchful eye of escort, Eirian took to the fields and woods to hunt out the natural inspiration for color. Dirt was beneath her nails already, a basket filled with roots, grass, heather, bluebells, and daises. Now? It was the rumor of wild roses with a deep hued petal, glossy leaves, and viable root all of which made exceptional dye and paint.

[Anulia of Amora]

Anulia of Amora- With a large basket upon her head, balancing the weight of it on the most sturdy part of her body while her left hand was raised to hold the basket along it's side. Such was a action that she had not seen any women do here, for many had carriages or wagons to help them with heavy loads. Anulia, had only her skull and hands, but she used them well as the habit was passed down. It amde her walk with more natural elegance, aligning her back as she moved and paused while Eirian stopped to collect more things. Such wonderful colors, smells and vibrant plants made Anulia's smile beam every time Eirian spoke in that loving tone of her's. The alabaster woman did not act like a statue even though her skin seemed to look as those Anulia had seen within the halls of the castle. No no, this woman was alive and loved life as much as Anulia did, finding the simple pleasures within it and caring for the smallest details of plant life. A glance was given to the male following them before she looked forward as they moved again and that basket was balanced upon her head. After so many years of such a skill, Anulia was able to pull her hand down and balance that thick, large basket upon her head without any help from her hands what so ever. Such, was what she did now and would do until they reached deeper into the forest area, where she would need to step over fallen logs and the such. Her small, right hand reached down to pick up the light skirts of creams and yolk colors, making her darker skin stand out all the more, yet somehow blending wonderfully with it. "Lady Eirian...a question if I may? How is it that some clothing is..heavier then others? Could there be a weight to make clothing..not weight so much on the skin?"

Eirian- Eirian thought that Anulia's exotic skill of carrying the basket on her head was useful, but stopped to consider the fact that where she came from it might be just as normal as hitching a sorrel mare to a cart! What did one do without large, rectangular boxes mounted on wheels or animals heavy enough to pull the burden down the road? They walked along through the fields, Eirian's feet were naked as the feet of young children or those with lesser means who did not afford the luxury of leather shoes. She liked to feel the cool, damp earth crumbling under her toes, the grasses' tickling the soles. A woman of alabaster come to life cherished the breath in her lungs, pushing it out when hands went to her hips to gauge surroundings. The Fieldren Fields had burst overnight into an ocean of bluebells, thistle, and wild white dandelion as far as the eye could see out to the border of the forest glades offering shade from the open sun under thick canopy. To get to the forest, they traveled the detailed path of combing past bountiful majority for the rare minority of a red petal, a particular leaf with a hint of brown, or the brown tailed grass that hadn't gotten as much sunlight. Thatch basket rested on the back, a satchel over the arm, and even one shaped like an open bowl. A country woman in the European world utilized her hips, back, and arms. "Of course, you may ask as many questions as you'd like. The clothing? Oh, that is simple. It is because some fabrics are made of different things...here..I will show you..." On the front of a woven belt, strips of cloth with fasteners on the end held hiked overskirts in place, leaving a hint of leg exposed. Smooth, lithe sinew in the calves flexed as she stepped upward to take hold of a branch, using it to get her over the log below. She reached a hand back, pulling forward a strip of shawl that was tossed over the arm, being not in use, "Feel how warm this is. This fabric's name is wool, it is used to keep one warm in cool areas. So it is heavier.... but this..." She let her feel the apron like covering over her skirts, " Is also wool, but it is very light.. This garment helps to keep the dust from my skirt, so it is lighter." The shawl was a thicker weave, burgundy in color, And the familiar weight of it could be felt if one wrapped it around them many times over. But the apron was easy, still managing to flow a little when the wind swept them by. " This is because it depends on what one needs to use the fabric for, then they decide as they weave the cloth if it will be a heavy blend or a light one."

Anulia of Amora- Anulia had found herself also thrilled with such a fact as to see Eirian removing her shoes before they begun their journey into the lands. Anulia did not hesitate to do the same, feeling more at home as the cool and slightly damp grass about her feet and ankles. Pausing once more, she pulled the basket from her head to place it upon the ground before finally taking Eirian's example and pulling her skirts upwards, though instead of tucking them, she twisted the material up in small hands to her right side, making her mocha colored legs exposed, showing true strength of a women within the skin. A knot was made with a few twist before she reached to pick up the basket and place it upon her head once more now that the skirts left her legs exposed all the way to her smooth knees. How else could one learn unless they asked questions? Anulia always had them, though she did not always ask often. Following after the alabaster colored woman, she stepped lightly as if she did not truly need to touch the ground hard to move. This..was her life and this was what she knew. The vastness of wild life in mother nature. Both hands were free now so that when Eirian asked her to reach and touch items, Anulia did so, remembering some of them and how they made her body feel when they covered it completely. "Wool is a material that hurts my skin. It makes it red and raw looking. I do know one material that does not hurt my skin, but it cost a great deal of coins. Silk. Can you..make silk?" Every time they passed a tree, Anulia's hand that was closest to it, reached out to let fingers caress it on the way by, like a long lost friend. The forest spoke to Anulia like no other, almost as if the tribe she had once called her people, were reaching out to her through the breeze, the shaking of the leaves and the creaking of the tree branches. I am here she thought.

Eirian- As Anulia and Eirian walked together on a search for the things that made paint, die, and ink that Eirian was close to the earth. She didn't care if the dirt made her skirts dirty, or that her hands were being stained by pollen. Leaves were crushed to test the consistency of the wax-like jucies, making bits of green stick underneath her fingernails. It was food for the soul, she said, and God was nourishing her because she was deprived of this beauty for so long. lifting up a low hanging branch, the leaves acted like a veil over the moonglow face. For an instant Anulia became the earth, the roots of the trees. Eirian became the birdsong and the light that encased them. Friendship was about finding the unifying bonds. She didn't like hearing that fabric made her sick with skin rashes, shaking her head with a sisterly coo under her tongue, " That won't do, not at all. You're skin can scar from such rashes. Silk is very expensive in Europe, but it is getting to be more common, and I do know how to weave it myself so I can make it for you, and some clothes from it perhaps? Also, I can make you things out of cotton, linens, blends, so they flow and breathe on you. Would that help you, Anulia?" Standing on tip-toe once more, she nearly seemed ethereal in the smallest ways. reaching up overhead for a sampling of leaves, climbing into the lower parts of the tree before coming down. Portions of her garmet could be seen, how even with a wool apron, her attire was made of a breathable cotton colored in the same shade as her eyes, earth brown, and bright copper. The skirts fit closer, flaring once it came to the mid thigh and in the split where she walked freely. Her breasts stayed upward by the use of an undergarment that tied in the back, a strip of colored fabric who's embroidered birds was seen in the front V, over that and the skirts would go an over-robe of sorts, like a long vest that brushed at the ankles, leaving the sleeves as long as she liked. Today, they were cuffed right past the elbow, but Anulia had seen her in over robes with varying lengths of sleeves before. "Some of the clothing here is downright painful, and I have lived in Europe all of my life."

Anulia of Amora- Scar laced ankles hid themselves within the length of the grass as Anulia moved while ribbon of soft material had been wrapped around her wrist thanks to Tahirah, keeping the scars about her wrist covered from view. Shame, was not a issue as much as not wanting to remember every time she looked upon her own skin. While her dress might have looked like that of Tahirah and Aman-ud-Din, underneath, Anulia held a secret. Those small bits of material that she had once worn within the jungle, rested upon her flesh under the soft and flowing fabrics that covered most of her body save her lower arms, hands, neck and face. Chocolate hues moved towards the woman as she was adventurous, moving to the trees like Anulia could. "Yes...very much so. If it will not hurt my skin. I am simply not use to the dress here and I have tried to get my body to understand, but it has a mind of it's own. I find myself looking to others and seeing that they wear their...homeland materials on them. Why can I not as well? I am conflicted. Tahirah and Aman-ud-Din say that exposing great deal of skin is different to them and I wonder if it would be sinful? Why if....others can wear their homeland attires....can not I as well? I..do not want to be in pain simply to please others." she paused and reached up for the basket when she saw a large oak tree. Much like the one she had seen first when she came to the island, scared and with Aman-ud-Din trailing behind her. Before she could stop herself, the basket was placed firmly on the ground as slender arms reached out to the tree and wrapped around it in a tight embrace. It was so thick that she could not touch her own fingers together as her face pressed against it and she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment while the scent of the tree surrounded her. Peace. The smooth and rippled bark touched her flesh where it was exposed and pressed against the dress that covered her. Before she knew it, she was speaking, feeling so comfortable within the forest like she was home. "I can hear them...I can hear everything here. As if the breeze speaks to me, or the trees play me a song that only I can hear, in greeting for me coming to see them. They give so much life..my only reminders of a home I once knew. One that is fading in my mind." Chocolate eyes opened softly before her head turned and she looked to Eirian. " If only I can remember in clothing..I would do such.."

Eirian- Everyone had a secret; a word they kept to themselves, a piece of longing hid underneath the shield of clothing so no one could see. An action undistinguishable underneath social pretense. Her garments were inspired by a distant civilization that thrived in palaces behind forbidden cities. No one could know what she spoke of save any that made the journey - fields were people waded in ankle deep water to grow their food. Bamboo forests as long as the eye could see. What was a dragon, a phoenix, and who took the pearl from the Palace of the Emperor and down to watery depths of the sea? Wagon dwellers crossing expanse of thirsty earth in a desert to a promise on land that moved in the formation of steps. The wool a reminder to stay true to the heritage of mother's voice calling from the cottage steps. A barefoot little girl with a crook in her hand. Hiding behind the rocks on the moors as the sheep grazed. Crowning a May Queen and cathechism with a poor friar. She put down her baskets, satchels, and bindings, letting a bit of exposed skin form to the trunk of the tree. Some would have laughed at Anulia, but Eirian only smiled holding in her fingers the moss, the grasss that grew as wild, as free, as the brown skinned woman had lived. "You will remember it in your clothes, tell it to me and I will do my best to use my hands to make your vision. Tell me your story, so that I might write it down in a book for people to know how vast the world truly is. You are right to hold fast to that, to never forget who you are. I admire that in you. All of your questions, striving to learn but not forgetting yourself. Aman-un-Din and Tahirah can understand that, even if they say that to be exposed in some way is sinful. You see, every part of the world has a tribe, if you will, and many villages that say many things, and live many ways. God wants us to revere one another, and the world he created, to be at peace with our fellow man and woman. True, some have made ways to live and called it God's way, but what does he speak to your heart?" She stepped out - one, two, three, long strides to come around the other side of Anulia, looking to her eyes with a smile, "What God tells you is greater than any book that is ever written, any story ever told, because he makes a story in you. You have come to tell us a new tale, Anulia! Let your clothes reflect that, and all that you do." She didn't see her as a savage, or as ignorant. Merely curious, naive but only because she was still getting the tools she needed to survive in a land she was thrust on. Anulia was older than Eirian, and had wisdom of another sort that no amount of coin or scholar could give. "We have to be true, and that is the hardest thing to do. A great challenge and at once so simple, and God knows how we pray on it every day. To never forget a sight, a sound. I tell you, Anulia, with each passing year the memory of picture of home grows stronger...but the sounds. The wind on the grass..the way my mother sang to me. How we sat making fabric, or supper, or the sound of her voice as she spoke to me in the tongue of our heritage."

Anulia of Amora- God. It was still something she learned about daily, wanting to make sure such a path was right for her. It felt right and since coming to learn of God, she had not been harmed, but then again she had not been truly harmed in all the years she had been with the people of the jungles. She watched Eirian's gentle smile towards her, not making her feel like a child as others did by accident, but some how showing understanding. Anulia needed that most from people, but she knew now more then most, that the world held pockets of cruelty within it and every now and then, life stumbled into them. Anulia had not only stumbled into one, but was trapped for some time, yet she did not let it affect her and kill her soul. She could never survive being cold and bitter, she could never survive as a heartless person who never smiled or laughed. Rose said she was stronger, because she could laugh and smile while others had let such events rot them away or fester within their bodies. "I will tell you what I remember of my clothing, but visions are confusing me. I see places that was not the jungle as more passing days go by. I see...Tahirah and Aman-ud-Din's home as well..almost as if I have been there before. I do not know if I am loosing the jungles..or remembering other things I had forgotten. God...is still very new to me and the written words of people that claim to speak directly to him, confuse me. You have put it best...and I do try to go by what I feel within my heart. It tells me that dressing of a homeland not my own is wrong to my people...those that protected me and died for me. I am.. not ready to tell my whole story just yet, but that of a life with those people..I can speak on. " Eirian's words made a great deal of sense to Anulia as she unwrapped her arms from the tree, letting fingers slide along the bark while Eirian moved around so she could better see her. " I have never seen my mother's face. I never had one...some..in my tribe believed I was not born of a woman, but earth herself. If that is the case, then is earth my mother and God my true father? So many thoughts...all jumbled up within my head. Even..among my tribe..I was...not like them. While my skin is much darker then your own...their's was darker still. Like...the night sky without stars or a moon. We wore..only what separated us from being man and woman, nothing more. I was...a high priestess to my people with dress made of vines and animal skins. Sometimes..we had feathers from birds to use as well. "

Eirian- " Maybe you have been many places, and your mind is trying hard to remember which it most desires. I wish I could tell you why that is, but no one has all of the answers. Your people loved you so there is no wrong in their ways, many just fear what they do not know or understand. Some people of God, some Christians as you may have heard us called, think it is their duty to spread the word of God in Christ but that they must put their culture over others and call wrong what has been for hundreds, thousands of years. Anulia, you are of the world. It is your mother, and God is your father. Somehow, I think that all Gods and Goddesses are made to be one because they have something in common. Many try to find what makes us different, when we should all try to find what makes us the same" She sat down on a root that had reached up a long distance before the tip plunged down into the ground. Once sitting, she began to weave the grasses together in the open holes of her basket, filling in places so the gathered roots didn't fall out. Women were united in so many things, and this simple task was one of them. Her fingers were so nimble, so natural, she could look at Anulia as she did it without missing a beat in the conversation. " We all eat, sleep, breathe. We laugh, we cry, we want better. We want to learn..we all live under the sky and on the earth. At times people will come together and it is nature's way to blend them, for a long or short time." Beneath the wrap of fabric underneath her breasts was the dome that the skin of the belly was starting to form as the womb stretched to accommodate the child within. She shifted, chuckling as the baby kicked or did a somersault in her hidden, dark place.

[Anulia of Amora]

Anulia could not truly grasp how true Eirian's words were about her mind having remembered many different places and was trying to figure out which one it desired the most. Time, would open up such things, but for now Anulia remained locked, waiting for a key to open it. A few times, that door shook now and then, but it had yet to come flying open. When Eirian spoke of the Christian religion and how others wanted to spread the word of God, Anulia sighed. It was so easy to understand at first, but as she learned more, she got confused and started to question things, such as how it seemed to be hypocritical when she spoke to the local priest and such. The priest had done just that, saying Anulia was a sinner and trying to get saved only now that she felt the other Gods had abandoned her. In truth, perhaps it was not fair to turn her back on one God for Another, but what proof did she have that those Gods were even still there for her and did not forsake her? Not much to go on since she had been thrown to the Demon men and left to defend herself. Trying to have a solid opinion herself for once and yet listening to Eirian's and finding it made a lot of sense, she looked down to her bare feet as they touched the earth, feeling the crushed leaves underneath and hearing the soft snapping of a few small branches as she moved forward. What was similar between everyone? Each person had to breath air, each person could bleed, each person had skin thought it was of different colors. Some, she had found did not have emotions, many were not happy with their lives it seemed as well and no one was the same size.

As if reading her mind, Eirian said something along the same lines and sat down. Anulia took that moment to do so as well, though not seeing any real need to find a tree to do such, she simply sat down on the soft earth and adjusted her skirts to be more ' lady like'. That adjustment showed that strip of animal hide that came to fall from the many skirts surrounding it. The basket she had been carrying upon her head was placed by her side as her legs crossed Indian style, placing the ankles over the opposite leg while skirts were left to cover the tops of them. Her legs were strong, from climbing trees, running and walking through the wild jungles.

"God, is a confusing topic no matter what culture it is in. I have noticed this a lot recently. The Gods, I once worshipped were selfish and full of what you call greed. Greed for life, greed for our praise. We did many things to appease them. things that now seem savage, but it was all we knew and it was right. Somehow, it still feels right for the simple fact that we were taught that and as you said, it was something passed down through many many years. Still, this Christian God has kept me safe so far and Aman-ud-Din does not seem like a man who is mislead often, though I know he is human and can make mistakes. I...do not want to anger God, but us humans view every God with a temper. If God is meant to be perfect in every way...why would he have such a flaw? I often wonder and have asked if the book of God was written by himself, only to find people have written it, claiming that God spoke to them. People can lie..how are we to believe them? It makes one wonder."

Chocolate eyes went to the rounding belly of the alabaster woman before she scooted closer slowly as Eirian smiled and finally simply got to her knees to do a knee walk towards the woman, facing their fronts together. Both hands, rose upwards, before she paused and asked if she could touch her belly. Small hands rubbed together quickly, making the skin warm from friction, she waited for the permission to be granted before placing her hands flat over that rounding belly, letting her own heat seep into the fabric and skin beyond. "How long have you been with child?"

[Lady Eirian Gwenyth Apollius]

Eirian's talk eclipsed the common a great deal of the time. What came out of her mouth was always wise, often poetic. She didn't mean to exclude others from understanding her meaning, or talk like she was above any one person. Like anyone that has had too much of one thing, she too had lived for too long and too many years with her head between the pages of books. In a bid to broaden her perspective of the world, the Grand Dame had seen fit to purchase precious editions of great works copied by the hands of monks and nuns for her grandchild. "You must be worldly wise without being immodest, knowledgable without appearing vain." The smooth, dark voice the woman had must have charmed men into fits when she was a youth. Eirian still heard her, even now.

Anulia had the keys to the kingdom of understanding. It never ceased to amaze her how the woman could fathom her long, decorated strands of speech as if she were no more than a simple shepard's child still. "God wants his children to be happy, and while most of the faith is centered on the belief that earthly pleasures distract us from the fruits of the soul, I'd like to believe God grows angry if we don't appreciate a beautiful flower. Sulks of we do not enjoy the fruit of his world, this grand garden he made for us, those in his image. There are those in the world who live, as they say, without the truth of God, the knowledge that they need to accept Christ. But even of this...." A great river of black lava flowed over her back as she shook her head, jet laquer caught the light and held it hostage. "I have read many books on such, and have seen many things that tell me everyone knows the sacrifice, the goodness of the Christ and the holy spirit of God in some special way."


The apex of creation, the life inside of her, turned a somersalt. Hope Olwen pressed against the right side of the womb. A tiny ripple passed underneath the cloth of Eirian's garments, the babe making contact with Anulia. "I am five months," she grinned, touching the top of her belly, "The babe will be a late summer, early fall child. Right in the span of the two seasons."

[Anulia of Amora]

Such words had not been lost on Anulia. They were wise and she respected the person giving them enough to give them attention and lock them away in her mind for future use. Anulia had many secrets and many things in her past she did not understand or even know yet. All would come tumbling down on her, but that was the only way it seemed. Hands remained pressed to the growing womb that hid itself under the materials of cottons and threads. God, was seen in many forms. She had read such within the library. People liked to believe that a God was one person, or two, or many in order to keep chaos in check and from their lives. Perhaps somewhere deep inside, people wanted a God to place all the worries and blames on. It may have been easier to say that something higher then themselves was in control and humans were not always when it came to things in their lives.

Moving her hands around the womb, she looked up to Eirian and smiled wide at the feel of the small baby inside. A girl, that Eirian would call hope. A word that Anulia was still trying to grasp. " Oh. That is good then. You are farther along then I expected. I assume, because I never see you with another child often, that this is your first one? Are you nervous? You look more then ready to have this child. I assume, you have been waiting some time. If I might be so bold, who is the father? I never see a man in your presences that acts as your mate."Anulia did not always look that deeply at others and there could have been things she missed.

[Lady Eirian Gwenyth Apollius]

God was as open to interpretation as the subjects that made her livlihood. Theologians were Church-sanctioned philosophers of the highest accord, arguing over this or that. Pious men and women wrote treatise on what God became to them, and even now, people rallied against the holiness or corruption of the One True Church. God was a giver of blessings or a tyrant who turned a blind eye to real suffering. Then again, some said that it was suffering that gave the soul a way to meet the serene, gracious fruits of the spirity: chastity, patience, virtue, faith, morality, and love among them. Eirian's own piety was fashioned from her own interpretation, which ginger as she was, could cause firestorms easily in certain places.

"This is my first child," she nodded,"I have waited for her since there was a prospect I would bare children once I was married. Long have I felt her spirit, heard her voice in my mind; an spirit from heaven only awaiting a vessel to live in while on earth." Her hand rested permanetly over the child for now, the wing of the bird over the young in her nest. Nothing would harm her. Nothing would ruin or marr her preciousness. This was her child. Anulia's perception hinted on a keen point of interest no one of "good breeding" would bring up. Where was the child's father? Her lack of pretense was a good thing, and Eirian encouraged it with forward answers.

"The baby's father is absent, and has been for some time. He has gone off on a long set of errands, and something seems to keep him from returning. Our paths seem to have gone seperate, so the Duke will have it known that I am allowed to continue living in that state of seperation. My mate, as you would say, is my mate no longer." She didn't dance over the subject as if it, like she was alleged to be, was made of spun glass. The candor in her tone suggested that the matters at hand were given long lengths of thought. No tears, no great sighs of discomfort.

[Anulia of Amora]

Anulia's hands rested gently on top of that clothed belly to feel it moving up and down as Eirian took breath. The woman was a mystery herself, but what woman truly was not? Such complex creatures they were and sadly it could not be helped. Chocolate eyes stayed upon the woman's lovely face as she spoke of this being her first child. Anulia had no children from her body, but she did love them. There was just something about them that she...connected with. Tahirah was the first child that felt a bit like her own and it was no wonder with how close they had become. When Eirian moved her hands back over her belly, Anulia removed her own to let the woman hold her womb while she stayed close.

The father not being around felt like something Anulia should know and understand, but it was a mixed feeling. She was not meant to have a mate in the jungles. Meant to always be pure and never bare children, but was it odd to say that it felt like that should not have been the case? `` I am sorry that this has happened though you do not seem too upset about the loss. I assume that...when you have not seen someone for a long time, the heart tends to ease the wounds left behind. We are, strange creatures. This...separation....it means..you can choose another mate then?`` Anulia was trying to see if she had this right, for there were still many words to learn here in Skye.