Tat-Lung Breeding
Feb 24, 2020 20:07:58 GMT -6
Post by Jack on Feb 24, 2020 20:07:58 GMT -6
Dreams.
Dreams are fragile ethereal things. They are doors to other worlds, worlds of the dreamer's creation, those who are able to enter the dreams of others can attest that while part of the dream they have no say in the happenings of the world which has been created. Today, you are a part of another's world, a familiar world, and you sense they are a part of you. The presence tugs and pulls, alluring towards the deepest of subconsciousness, an ancient calling..
"Go South."
You rise from your bedding, familiar fog rolling in around you and through you, a song guiding you forward. No lyrics, no words, only that sepulchral bell of promises old. You cannot tell whether its pitch is high or low, but ever does it still feel comforting. You turn your head to hear it better and it flees and changes, while you spin yourself in a slow circle. When it stops to ring clear again, you notice that your body is now pointing due south.
The call?
Your feet begin to move of your own volition, they carry you out of your home into the streets. The light of dawn has barely begun to peek over the horizon, the streets are empty and devoid of life. You walk through the silent city following the sound of the bell.
After walking for what seems like an eternity, but for some reason dawn's rose coloured fingers still have yet to caress the sky. You have by this point wandered to the outskirts of the labs. You see rolling hills that seem to go on forever with only small patches of trees interrupting the serene grassland until it meets a distant smudge of green that extends across the horizon like a wall.
"This way."
A voice calls to you from the bottom of the hill and you dutifully respond to the command, heading into the depths of the earth. There before you is a grand stone arch with numerous carvings etched into the stone. You walk forward and enter the arch. You walk down a passage that is littered with gold coins and gems, but you're not here for riches. Eventually the passage opens up into a large cavern with numerous tunnels branching off from it. Like the passage this cavern is covered in gems and other such fine things, and sitting atop the tallest mound of all these fineries is a ghostly tat-lung.
They study your form with old eyes, then shift and turn to glance beside you. The presence is strong, strongest its been and you realize your other half stands just next to you, brought down here by the very same dream. The same scrutiny is granted to them, before the tat-lung addresses you both. "Have you come to answer the call?"
There are many possible reasons: a secretive midnight tryst never again repeated; the joining of two hearts long since spent aching; or even simply the detached fulfilment of one's sense of duty. To the tat-lung, the reasons matter not. The ghostly tat-lung continues, their bearing held with ceremony and veneration, as they only ask the important question:
"Do you swear to have come of your own free will? To join both souls in one, in custom and in honour of the old ways? And to bear new life from your own, to accept the duty of their raising and well-fare?"
The bells keep ringing in the background, distant, quiet, comforting echoes of some other place, some other time, as they await the answer.
Dreams are fragile ethereal things. They are doors to other worlds, worlds of the dreamer's creation, those who are able to enter the dreams of others can attest that while part of the dream they have no say in the happenings of the world which has been created. Today, you are a part of another's world, a familiar world, and you sense they are a part of you. The presence tugs and pulls, alluring towards the deepest of subconsciousness, an ancient calling..
"Go South."
You rise from your bedding, familiar fog rolling in around you and through you, a song guiding you forward. No lyrics, no words, only that sepulchral bell of promises old. You cannot tell whether its pitch is high or low, but ever does it still feel comforting. You turn your head to hear it better and it flees and changes, while you spin yourself in a slow circle. When it stops to ring clear again, you notice that your body is now pointing due south.
The call?
Your feet begin to move of your own volition, they carry you out of your home into the streets. The light of dawn has barely begun to peek over the horizon, the streets are empty and devoid of life. You walk through the silent city following the sound of the bell.
After walking for what seems like an eternity, but for some reason dawn's rose coloured fingers still have yet to caress the sky. You have by this point wandered to the outskirts of the labs. You see rolling hills that seem to go on forever with only small patches of trees interrupting the serene grassland until it meets a distant smudge of green that extends across the horizon like a wall.
"This way."
A voice calls to you from the bottom of the hill and you dutifully respond to the command, heading into the depths of the earth. There before you is a grand stone arch with numerous carvings etched into the stone. You walk forward and enter the arch. You walk down a passage that is littered with gold coins and gems, but you're not here for riches. Eventually the passage opens up into a large cavern with numerous tunnels branching off from it. Like the passage this cavern is covered in gems and other such fine things, and sitting atop the tallest mound of all these fineries is a ghostly tat-lung.
They study your form with old eyes, then shift and turn to glance beside you. The presence is strong, strongest its been and you realize your other half stands just next to you, brought down here by the very same dream. The same scrutiny is granted to them, before the tat-lung addresses you both. "Have you come to answer the call?"
There are many possible reasons: a secretive midnight tryst never again repeated; the joining of two hearts long since spent aching; or even simply the detached fulfilment of one's sense of duty. To the tat-lung, the reasons matter not. The ghostly tat-lung continues, their bearing held with ceremony and veneration, as they only ask the important question:
"Do you swear to have come of your own free will? To join both souls in one, in custom and in honour of the old ways? And to bear new life from your own, to accept the duty of their raising and well-fare?"
The bells keep ringing in the background, distant, quiet, comforting echoes of some other place, some other time, as they await the answer.
