2007 Figgies Kariza Clip

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All the Hunters of the Moon posts are pretty Kariza-centric, but I like this first one the best, because I think it really set the tone for the ones to follow. --Aurora 01:23, 14 March 2007 (CDT)


It was midnight, and the full moon shone majestically in the night sky, its silvery light penetrating the secluded grove. She gazed out upon it from a window high in the tree house. The night was brisk, but her blood was racing through her veins as she walked to the floor-length mirror of her chambers to prepare for the night to come.

She began to disrobe, her long, delicate fingernails, painted with shimmering silver lacquer, picked at the knots holding her gossamer robe together. She let it drop to the floor, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her thick hair was wavy, a metallic silver, and fell to her waist. Her skin was smooth, a deep obsidian color, and in the moonlight her curvaceous form, covered with spiralling silver tattoos, gleamed. A charm hung from her neck on a mithril chain, a circle with two curving, crossed swords, and a single earcuff grasped a pointed, black ear. She fingered her necklace, let her violet eyes trace its curves, and she smiled. Without looking up, she felt a familiar presence at the doorway of her chamber.

"What is it, Michiru?" she asked in a heavily accented, lilting Common.

"Kariza, it is time," the human female replied, in a different but also heavy accent.

"Let us depart, then."

Kariza let her necklace fall to her chest, and looked to the wall of the modestly decorated room. Two shining, silver scimitars hung in "X" formation, their blades inscribed with softly glowing Elven runes. She took one in each hand, and followed the raven-haired human female--also nude, holding a shimmering katana--out to the rope bridge. Michiru climbed down a ladder to the forest floor, while the Drow simply stepped off the wooden platform and effortlessly glided down to the grass.

They gathered in the clearing, around a roaring bonfire, and all were nude save the sword pendants they each wore around their necks. Veldrin, tall and proud, her enormous two-handed broadsword planted in the grass, stood gazing into its flames. Asraena, standing as always at her side, held a rapier in one ebony hand. Gentle Radha, her human blood betrayed by her dusky grey skin, clutched her longsword tightly and sat cross-legged in the grass. Mayandrana stood somewhat apart from them all, a hand resting lightly on the pommel of her bastard sword, a snowy owl perched on a padded rest on her shoulder. An enormous white she-wolf sat on her haunches next to her, and bounded over to Kariza, who bent down and scratched behind her ears. The wolf, Kyorlin, nuzzled her side affectionately in turn.

Out of the shadows, she appeared: Lady Sereska Vae, High Priestess of the Temple of the Silver Crescent, The Lady Moondancer. The woman who brought them all here, the woman to whom so many owed so much. The woman upon whom so many leaned. The woman who saved Kariza's life, and gave her a new one.

Still regal, still beautiful despite the few lines and creases upon her ebony skin and the slight yellow cast to her long, silvery locks. Kariza sighed, choking back tears, and she noted her sisters did much the same. Lady Sereska had always been small, even for a Drow female, but this night she appeared even more delicate than she usually did. Not delicate, Kariza amended her thought. Frail. Her hand was placed lightly on the arm of a tall, handsome Elven male, his long blond hair touched here and there by gray. It was difficult at times to remember that they were both so very old, that they had both seen so very much. Their fey blood disguised the fact that they had walked among these trees when some of them were saplings. In the last few months, however, it appeared that Lady Sereska's long years had finally begun to catch up with her. The final proof was staring at all of them in the form of a long white gown, and the scimitar which was sheathed in a jeweled scabbard at her waist, and the small crystal decanter in her free hand.

For the first time, Lady Sereska would not be joining them on the High Hunt.

Almost instinctively, Kariza began to sing. It was a wordless melody, soft and serene, and conveyed everything she was too afraid to say. The others strode to them at a stately pace, taking up the familiar notes. It was Orlinath d'lil Olawen, the Hymn of the Dark Maiden, and it was the first song Lady Sereska had taught each of them when they found their way to this sacred place.

They gently swayed to the rhythm of their song, and the Lady Moondancer smiled. She left the steady arm of her lover, Kalanar, and dipped her finger inside the decanter. It was filled with sweet-smelling jasmine oil, and one by one, she anointed each of the priestesses' foreheads, making a crescent sign.

One by one, she came to them, and blessed them: Veldrin, the Silver Flame; Asraena, the Moon Singer; Michiru, Ghost of the Moonstruck Night; Mayandrana, the Living Blade; Radha, the Bright Edge of Darkness. And finally, she came to Kariza, the Dark Huntress.

"May the Dark Maiden keep you safe from harm," Sereska whispered fiercely, as Kariza knelt before her and received the sacred anointing.

"We shall slay the monster, little mother," Kariza promised, her determination masking the sorrow in her heart. Sereska said nothing, but smiled, and handed the oil to Kalanar, who stood respectfully off to the side. Kariza noted the sense of regret in his grey eyes, knew that he longed to join them. But his place was with her, as it had been for centuries, as it had been since he pulled her from the flames his people condemned her to. Kalanar would watch over Sereska, protect her, until one of them left this world. Kariza knew, because she once did the same for another. Would that he had not left her so wretchedly soon.

The Lady Moondancer unsheathed her blade, an exquisite scimitar whose gracefully curved blade shone with dazzling white light, and slowly raised it high in the air. It took all her strength to keep it steady, but steady it was. The priestesses gathered about her in a circle, and raised their own swords to hers. Blade touched blade in a sparkling point of light.

"Go my daughters! May your hearts be filled with courage, and may your blades sing with the blood of the wicked beast!" Sereska commanded.

"ULTRINNAN WHOL EILISTRAEE!" the priestesses cried out in unison, their voices powerful and clear.

All their fears and sorrows melted away, and there was only a singular, all encompassing purpose. Kariza was ready, her sisters were ready. There was but one thing to do. Kariza lowered her blades, and ran silently into the night with Kyorlin racing at her side. One by one the women followed her into the nearby copse of trees, swords in determined hand, and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

The moon was high.

It was time for the Hunt.