Caelius
02-07-11, 01:17 PM
A bird called in reply to her chirping young before perching upon a branch somewhere overhead with a gentle rustle. A river fish splashed noisily as it leapt from the water for a loudly buzzing insect. The cool, wet stones massaged the man’s bare feet, and the crisp breeze from the mountains to the west jostled his long grey locks. Scents of the fresh stream and newly budding foliage filled his nose so much that he could taste their sweetness. Above, the wind through the leaves sounded in concert with the rushing waters below, as if to continually bid the Raiaeran landscape, “husshh”. It was a beautiful scene to behold, though the man saw none of it.
Caelius Cassus moved upon the smooth river rocks with grace and delicacy, the slick and mossy surfaces of the stones never threatening his balance or posture. It had long been his morning routine to perform the slower, more meditative martial forms, a common practice in the temple where he had spent his early existence. Born without the use of his eyes, and promptly orphaned, Caelius was adopted and raised by a small sect of Thayne monks. High in the mountains to the west of the town of Valinatal, the religious hermits had secluded themselves from the mainstream cultists. There, they silently cultivated their own understanding of Thayne lore, merely stringing together pieces of its canonical traditions. It was fate that had delivered Caelius to them, and it was their patience and dedication to spiritual unity which enabled him to overcome his deficiencies. Now, to watch the ease and freedom of his flowing movements as he danced amidst the rushing waters of the Kilyanen, one would never know that he was entirely blind.
Having completed his exercise, Caelius leapt from his perch and landed firmly upon the riverbank. The maneuver invoked a loud yet pleasant chime from the bell which adorned his lithe anklet, the reverberating sound of which painted a clear picture of the glade in the man’s mind. He had trained himself to “see” with his ears through the use of echolocation. As a result, his movements, and indeed each of his daily actions, were performed with natural ease. He observed the world with all the clarity and accuracy of a seeing individual, and his reliance upon sound even held certain advantages over reliance upon visible light.
Grabbing his sturdy yet unpolished walking stick from the tree upon which it leaned, Caelius basked once more in the freshness of the Raiaeran spring. It was nearing the anniversary of his departure from the small temple that had been his abode. He had left years ago to explore the world and to experience a life beyond the secluded walls and sheltered existence of his youth. While there, though surrounded by the company of wise elders and energetic initiates, Caelius had always felt the nagging sensation of loss. Though constantly graced with genuine care and compassion, he always felt empty. He felt alone. It was there, in the emptiness of the wide open world, and in the solitude of the Raiaeran forest, that Caelius had finally found a place to call home.
However, he left on peaceful terms. His decision was not made hastily, and he was respected even as he bid farewell to what had become his family. His own honor and gratitude for the monks led him to vow that he would return each year; no matter how far his paths would lead from the western mountains of Raiaera. This year he hadn’t gone far. The winter had been particularly brutal, forcing him to take refuge in a small village deep within Daer Taurë. As Caelius made his way westward from the glade, he estimated that he should be no more than a day’s journey from the Kilyanen Gorge. Turning south along the mountain ridge, he could make the temple stairs in less than a week.
He smiled as fond memories roused his emotions. The anxiety of his return always filled him with happiness, and he held on to those feelings for the remainder of his travels that day.
Caelius Cassus moved upon the smooth river rocks with grace and delicacy, the slick and mossy surfaces of the stones never threatening his balance or posture. It had long been his morning routine to perform the slower, more meditative martial forms, a common practice in the temple where he had spent his early existence. Born without the use of his eyes, and promptly orphaned, Caelius was adopted and raised by a small sect of Thayne monks. High in the mountains to the west of the town of Valinatal, the religious hermits had secluded themselves from the mainstream cultists. There, they silently cultivated their own understanding of Thayne lore, merely stringing together pieces of its canonical traditions. It was fate that had delivered Caelius to them, and it was their patience and dedication to spiritual unity which enabled him to overcome his deficiencies. Now, to watch the ease and freedom of his flowing movements as he danced amidst the rushing waters of the Kilyanen, one would never know that he was entirely blind.
Having completed his exercise, Caelius leapt from his perch and landed firmly upon the riverbank. The maneuver invoked a loud yet pleasant chime from the bell which adorned his lithe anklet, the reverberating sound of which painted a clear picture of the glade in the man’s mind. He had trained himself to “see” with his ears through the use of echolocation. As a result, his movements, and indeed each of his daily actions, were performed with natural ease. He observed the world with all the clarity and accuracy of a seeing individual, and his reliance upon sound even held certain advantages over reliance upon visible light.
Grabbing his sturdy yet unpolished walking stick from the tree upon which it leaned, Caelius basked once more in the freshness of the Raiaeran spring. It was nearing the anniversary of his departure from the small temple that had been his abode. He had left years ago to explore the world and to experience a life beyond the secluded walls and sheltered existence of his youth. While there, though surrounded by the company of wise elders and energetic initiates, Caelius had always felt the nagging sensation of loss. Though constantly graced with genuine care and compassion, he always felt empty. He felt alone. It was there, in the emptiness of the wide open world, and in the solitude of the Raiaeran forest, that Caelius had finally found a place to call home.
However, he left on peaceful terms. His decision was not made hastily, and he was respected even as he bid farewell to what had become his family. His own honor and gratitude for the monks led him to vow that he would return each year; no matter how far his paths would lead from the western mountains of Raiaera. This year he hadn’t gone far. The winter had been particularly brutal, forcing him to take refuge in a small village deep within Daer Taurë. As Caelius made his way westward from the glade, he estimated that he should be no more than a day’s journey from the Kilyanen Gorge. Turning south along the mountain ridge, he could make the temple stairs in less than a week.
He smiled as fond memories roused his emotions. The anxiety of his return always filled him with happiness, and he held on to those feelings for the remainder of his travels that day.