Maer sat by the waterfall, fianally getting the chance to be one with nature! The sounds of the waterfall were muted by the Fairy's sense of connection. Sighing, she let her delicate five-foot span of black and blueish wings 'unfurl' as she moved gracefully to sit on a rock.

She gazed at her surroundings fondly, this was where she belonged; not in that dump of a pavement city. Back in her day... Well, nevermind, she thought with a grimmish smile. Back in my day peasents littered the streets with their dried up shells, crawling, begging for food. Not like the kind of 'homeless' people one sees now, sitting outside a McDonalds with a cup of coffee in one hand and a faded old Nike hat in the other. ...economically, I believe the world has improved... in some parts, at least. She sighed again, this time out of loneliness. She had lost all of her friends, she was living in another century. Mariotto Albertinelli was all but forgotten. He was most famous for his 'Visitation of the Virgin' painted in Florence 'way back when', as the youth would phrase it now. 1503... did that year actually ever really exist? Maer saddened. Would she ever fit in in this world of technology, lies and violence?

Her mood shifted suddenly as a raven flew over her head. She smiled at it, and could have sworn the bird smiled back. It certainly let out a great 'Caw!' when it saw her.

"Beauty is contemplation," she remarked aloud for no one to hear. "As is in the eye of the beholder. Even a blind man could see the natural beauty in this..." she said lazily to herself before turning over on the large rock and promptly falling to sleep under the light of the sun.

((The thing she says in the end about blind people just left it completly open, and intreging, for me to bring Em in here. Sort of Ironic....))

"Contemplation for what?" came a voice from nearby. A man, plain, tall, and thin, stood leaning idely aginst his wooden staff, he'd choosen a staff over a walking cain since the staff looked more regal and the cain made him feel old. He wore non-descript clothing of faded blue jeans and a black tee-shirt. He wore a length of black cloth over his eyes, like a blindfold, that covered his eyes, part of his forhead, and the bridge of his nose.

He'd assumed she'd been speaking to him rather then to herself. Fortunatly for her, the man that was eaither blind or just wore a silly blindfold over his eyes for no apparent reason, could not see her wings. He could only hear her voice and the roar of the water tumbling over into a fall and crashing on the water and rocks below.

Before even realising she had been spoken to, Maer answered the question. "Contemplation on one's self, on one's inner beauty... Wait, hello?" she asked. Her voice ahd started off dreamily, then rose to a sharp snap. There was a person with her, a blindfolded, bestaffed man. She knew instantly that he was unable to physically 'see'. A Fairy's gift of understandment. He was not going to hurt her, Hells, he probably hadn't even meant to come upon her at all. No need to hide her wings, then.

Maer's voice became soft again, as her eyes smiled kindly, even though he could not see. At least he would feel the warmth in her voice. "How came you here, young man." She winced. 'Young man'? Well, if that hadn't blown her cover... The waterfall roared on, a voice as powerful as Maer's, speaking it's mind to her.

"I see." he said to her answer. It was an odd thing for someone in his position to be saying, though he often said it.

He shrugged in return for an answer, asuming when she'd called him 'young man' that she was probably older then he, maybe forty of fifty years. After all, a young rich voice didn't always mean a young person. "I like waterfall," he replied. "It's beautiful." He stepped forward a few paces until the end of his staff found one of the boulders, slick with wet from the fall spray, and seated himself. Then as if an after thought of what he'd just said he tapped his eyes (or where they were if the blindfold wasn't obstructing them) in an offhand sort of way. "I meanit sounds beautiful, peaceful and serene sort of."

He situated himself on the boulder and lay the staff across his crossed legs and put his arms on his knees lightly. "You don't mind if I stay do you?"

"I understand," Maer said. She smiled, her green eyes --slightly greener than usual, thanks to her surroundings-- twinkling. "And no, I don't mind at all. You don't seem to upset my balance with nature like most people do." Okay, now that must have sounded wierd, like she was some nature-religious fanatic. Not that she minded in the least.

She moved closer to the waterfall with grace not usual for one her age, her long black hair shining in the sun. "It is beautiful, indeed. I'm sure you can see it in your mind. One doesn't need eyes to see," she said, knowing from a certain personal experience. ...nearly 500 years of experience.

"I'm Maer Aholost," she said quietly. Indroductions seemed to be needed.

His head turned away slightly at mention of no need for eyes. Whether he was more anoyed and frustrated or nervous about this statment he was not sure. She couldn't possibly know of visions, unless she was innish as well (which she obviously is but he dosn't know that). He fidgeted, one finger traceing groves in his wooden staff.

He followed her, his head turning as she moved, as if he could see her. Truely he was following her voice with a practiced talent. At her introduction, he opened his silvery blue eyes beneath the blindfold, though it did him no good. He tried to picture what someone named Maer would look like. He could see dark hair and hazel eyes, very off of what her real apperance was but some features were similar to the real 'her'.

He held out his hand directly in front of him, not the wisest of decisions but he wanted to know what she looked like. "I'm Emrys Damian."

Maer hoped, belatedly, that she had not offended the other by commenting on lack of eyes. Oh well, too late for regrets, a lesson well and hard learned on her part. ...not that she meant to do stupid things, they just...happened. In the seconds of silence Emrys took before speaking, Maer tuned her fine hearing unto the sounds of the waterfall, hearing each drop as they fell independantly (sp?). Haha, 500 some odd years and still good... she gave a soft, unconcious smile.

"I'm Emrys Damian." he said, holding his hand out. Maer stood up (having been sitting before) and floated over, wings skimming the wind lightly. She was, however, only about two centimeters off the ground. She landed, barefoot, in front of Emrys. She clasped his hand with her right one, her deathlike cold hand instantly warmed with contact. The tiniest jolt ran through her body at the touch, a feeling of recognition, but not on her part. Could the blind man see her? She shook his hand lightly, yet firmly.

At the warm touch of her hand, he was disapointedly suprised at the height of the woman. Not that he'd expected shortness (if there is such a word) of her but he'd never gotten over the fact that, for a man, he was short, standing at five feet nine inches. Her dark hair, in his oppinion, contrasted with her pale skin. And, he withdrew his scar-gloved hand from hers and the slightly wavering, firey apearing vision vanished from his mind. Wings. Did he really see wings?

There was only one way to find out. He couldn't ask her, if she did then he would reveal that he'd seen them, if she did not then she would think he was an insane freak. Reaching out, if she looked did not have wings, would seem like a blind mans empty guesture. Reaching out and touching would confirm his suspision.

Emrys reached out, regaurding only slightly the fact of her personal space. His staff rolled off his lap as he leaned forward to touch, or atempt to touch, the wings that may or may not be there...

((I'll leave whether he touches her wings or not open to you.))

Maer felt a strange...ripple... pass through her, not unlike the sensation of an electric courant running through her body. Yes, Emrys was most obviously seeing her without seeing her. Maer's green eyes glowed intensely as his hand groped the air hesitantly beside her, finally coming in contact with her wing. Her wings were not used to being touched by any other hands than those of their fairy. With a movement that suggested life within the five feet of bluey-black feather, they recoiled slightly, only to be brought back forth, although hesitantly. Maer wasn't used to this intimate touch. Back when she was a little 'un, wing-touching had been considered the most intimate gesture of all. But then again, back when she had been a 'little 'un', it was the Renaisance, and the streets ran with ideas of a new... everything.

"Yes," she said quietly. "They're real. They're a part of me. I am, as you have probably surmised, not like you or the rest of your race, for that matter." Why not be purely blunt?

His scar gloved hand lay flat and gential aginst her wings, feeling them pulsing with life, he did not retreat his hand when they shuddered away from his touch but rather left his hand where it was. And then he smiled softly, like the smile of a curious child, when her wings came back to his touch.

"I did not asume so," he replied. He was curious to know if by 'his kind' she meant that there was more of his kind, or that she still only knew him to be a blind man. His lips parted slightly, as if the words were trying to come out before he'd had time to think them through. He was silent, his finger tips aginst her soft feathers. Then he spoke again.

"You..." pausing, his fingers ran down slowly across her feathers, then traced the outter edge of the wing, all the way up and aginst her back, "if I touch them, do you?" He was already touching but he asked so she could say no if she wished to. With his free hand he pushed back some of the coal black hair that hung in his face.

"I..." for a moment, Maer had considered saying no, telling him that he couldn't touch her wings, but it didn't really matter now, now that he had already felt them. "No, no, it's fine. I suppose it must seem slightly odd for someone to have wings. Would you like an explanation?" she asked. It only seemed the polite choice of words, but, suprising, Maer didn't mind explaining, if so he chose. After all, it wasn't every day one meets a fairy, an ancient one, at that. But there was no need to go bringing her age into everything, that would just compicate the whole matter, then she'd have to explain why she was so old... or maybe she wouldn't have to.

Suddenly feeling rather useless, Maer lifted a hand to her face and ran her hand through her very black hair. It would need cutting soon, it was getting long enough to hinder her wings as she flew. Having hair caught in one's feathers was never a very pleasent sentiment at all, she thought with distaste.

He nodded at her offer of a description. It hurt. How blunt people sounded when they meant to be polite, and this hurt showed on the portion of his face that was not hidden behind the black cloth. He vagley remembered being able to see with his own eyes. He breathed a heavy sigh. "Yes." he replied finally, after a long silance and his fingers lingering on one spot near her back, not for the feel of it, but because he'd been in deep thought for the moment. yes, people were so blunt, but they are only trying to be polite. "I would like that very much."

He too reached up with his free hand to push back the coal black hair, those ever pesky strands that remained in his face, and always would.

Normally, Maer wouldn't have given a damn, to be frank and perfectly blunt, at the fact that she may have hurt her new acquaintance's feelings, however she had done that, but today... No, it wasn't 'today', it was her euphoria at being in her 'natural habitat' as one might say, and being with this other being who --strangely enough-- didn't really offthrow her 'balance with nature'.

"I... I'm a fairy. A rather old fairy." Ah, screw it. He was bound to find out her age sooner or later, anyways. "Not this namby-pamby 'new fairy' crap. No, I'm 100% true fairy of Old. Yes, Old. There are not many bodies alive who even know of Old, let alone remember it. A sad thing, this world is now..."

Now, if that hadn't sounded sullen, Gods knew what did. "I'm sorry," Maer said quickly. "I didn't mean to drag you into the oblivion that is my memoir... please forgive me."

"Not at all," he waved away her apology. He took hif fingertips, corse and scar covered, from her wings and slowly pushed them towards her face, lightly they landed aginst her cheek, lingering slightly, to allow her time to pull away or protest. Then he moved his fingers over her face, feeling...seeing the way he always saw.

"You don't mind do you?" he asked, he did not truely wait for an answer. "I am suprised, shocked really, that you reveal your rue nature to me, is that not a rue to those who posesse magic qualities?"

Maer did not draw back, even though she probably should have. Give him time to see, time to learn. He probably sees more than just my face, she thought wryly. Ah well.

"Why should I not speak of it to you?" she asked aloud. "I have a sense of whom I can and cannot trust. There is no imminant danger and hate radiating from you towards me. I guess I speak because everyone needs to tell someone something, sort of like a patient to a... psychiatrist? Is that the word. Yes. Some inner cleansing, I suppose. Now you will think I am weak," she said. Some people don't know where bluntness ends... but Maer needed to be blunt, it was her nature. She refused to stoop down to the level of underlaying lies and twisted words. Perhaps the latter hurt the victim more, but truth almost always wins out -- or so she believed, anyways.

He shook his head, fingers rolling over her skin, across her nose and up between her eyes to her forehead. "I do not think you are weak." He replied. "Perhapes a little bold, but not weak." He replied. He himself was being slightly blunt but it could not be helped in such a conversation as this. His fingers rested next to her eyes, leaving a moment for her to close her eyes before his hand would gloss over them as well.

"Your skin is not loose with the age you speak of," he comented. This was ment to be a complamen but came out more as an obsevation.

Not that she hadn't known she had been blunt, but she was rather glad that he commented on that, too, for some odd reason... She shut her eyes immediately. She didn't fancy having fingers jabbed into them, not that he would, she hoped, jab her eyes with her fingers, but just in case.... she squeezed them shut just a little tighter.

"I did not age," she said. Her tone of voice was not petulant, not was it harsh. It simply... was. Just like the fact. She had not physically aged a day since.... well, since she had done what she had done. Luckily, she was still alive to state her fact today. Of all the possible outcomes, she had come through with the slightest chance of all.... she hoped he did not want a more detailed explanation of what she meant.

He nodded, as if he knew what she'd meant by not aging any, though he truely knew nothing of it. He lowered his wandering fingers from her face and rested them back into his lap comfortably. He sat straighter now that his curious fingers had fulfilled their curiosiy.

"So, if you don't mind, how old are you?" he asked, he shifted slightly, he knew that was a wrong question but he'd been too curious to supress it. "I know that wasn't poite. Forgive me."

She stood up rather straighter as his fingers finished their intelligent wanderings. When he asked her age, Maer was not offended. That was actually a good question, since she had just babbled about her age. "No, you were quite right to ask me. I'm..." here she paused momentarily. She had never revealed this information to a living being before. "I'm on the darker side of 500. I hope that isn't too much of a shock. If it is, I'm sorry."

Goodness only knew how her acquaintance would take that.

Emrys sat up slightly straighter at this, moving his head back and arching his eyebrows slightly, just barely enough to be seen over the blindfold. He seemed taken back by this, but not shocked. It was odd to him, but he'd been prepared fo such by his so-called mother. She'd taught him to expect the impossible long before she'd died.

"well, I'm not much in comparison," he said, for the suprise did not sound in his voice, he'd covered that well. "But I'm nearly twenty three." He smiled at the thought of her age aginst his.

"You seem rather wise for your age," Maer said with relative contemplation reflected in her voice. "Perhaps that is why I mistook you for elder than your years. I'm sorry, friend, for mistaking your age." And she was, too. But then again, he had mistook hers, probably as her physicality had registered in his brain. But then again, one doesn't meet someone who's 530 years old every day, do they? No, but that was beside the point.

"So I feel so old to your fingers?" she asked. It was an honest question, if somewhat bluntly put forth. There was no 'wrong' answer. Truth always does what lying doesn't. Not that Maer believed Emrys would lie to her, should he choose to answer her question.

He did not answer directly but rather answered what could have ment eaither one, that she felt young or that she felt old. And the words came in a more powerful voice then had his previous, more curious words come. "You feel strong beneath my fingers."

He leaned back, one arm, hand planted on the boulder beneath him, supporting his body and the other hand, one finger traced the cracks in the stone. "What age did you mis take me for, fair Woman?" He asked, he'd called her woman rather then her name for he was not sure if he was pernouncing it correctly.

"Perhaps not mistaking your age so much," Maer said. "I meant not exactly what I said. I tend to judge... if I judge-- people on their, er, auras, I suppose you could say. I could close my eyes and see you at any stage in your life, so sometimes I get...confused...as to what physical stage one is at. I think I saw you as 30, perhaps younger, perhaps older. I guess that may seem a bit odd to you..."

She felt strong beneath his fingers? Their were so many meanings that could hold, but Maer decided that perhaps she'd best just take it as he had said it, and ask no questions. Maybe with age came strength. Or with species. Or magic. Or.... there were far too many 'or's out there.

"May I ask you something, Emrys?" she asked lightly. "There does not seem to be much surprising you. I gather you know more of this 'magic world', I suppose you could call it than you let on. Is this truth?"

He nodded silently, his guesture strong and stiff and unfaltering. "It is." He answered after a moment. Obviously he would not get in trouble for snitching out the magic world. She was a farie. That ment she already knew of the magic in the world.

"I do indeed know much of this magical world, as you call it." In truth, he possessed a magic of his own. More like a magic powered by his own will, though he often refused to use it. After all, it had been the cause of his handicap, his own magic had thrown himself into an everending world of darkness.

"I see," she said simply. "I can... feel it's so called 'residue' upon you. You must be fluent in it's ways. But it is not my place to speak so boldly. Alas, I'm sorry." Maer spoke.

She bowed her head lowly before retreating to her original rock. Some things were meant to be unspoken of, and she was sure that had Emrys wished it, he would have spoken of his gifts to her already. It was not her place to press the poor young man so. She was silent, and tuned her focus instead to the waterfall. It sounded so... incredible. Unconquerable by any natural means. There were only so many things humanity could tame. The consequences, were one to mess in the ways of nature, would leave deep wounds in the flesh of society, as the human race were beginning to discover for themselves.

He frowned, "no. You can ask of me, speak of me as you wish. It does not bother me." He replied. It was true. Should she ask a question that may be personal he would answer in a simple way and leave it be. He searched around for his staff, which had rolled off his lap earlier when he'd leaned forward to touch her wings.

(Gah! Short)

(as will this one be. I think we need more of a plot!^^)



Maer nodded lightly. He could probably...sense that anyways. She had been intent on the waterfall, but not so much as that Emrys' words had fallen upon deaf ears. Far from it, in fact. Her ears were so sensitive in this climate that she could hear the sounds of squirrels shifting in the trees nearby. Hardly an exaggeration at all.

"I am glad I do not bother you. Or my comments, at least. Tell me," she said, "what is it you do? As I job, I mean. In their world?" By 'their world' she meant, well... it was obvious what she meant.

He chuckled softly at the words ":their world." He looked great of innocence and child like sitting on the slick boulder. His black hair looked almost too wild, the blindfold looked the part of a good game of "Olly-olly-oxen-free".

"I'm attending one of Their colleges. My....er....(unsure of what to call her.) Barnwhen (he settled on) passed away a while ago and left me her money. I didn't use it when I didn't need it, but now I'm older and most won't hire a blind man to do a job they can have a capable man do." He sighed. "They won't risk the injuries, or possible ones."

"Well, that's a bit harsh. I've known a few brilliant blind people in my life... but, then again," she paused, "perhaps your employers wouldn't take such a 'risk' as you put it in hiring someone who cannot physically see. No, they probably wouldn't." She shifted her postioon on the rock, her wings catching certain slightly eerie colors from the sunlight seiving through.

"Ah yes... colleges.... even common folk" (Maer sometimes slips up and uses old language and sentiments and ranks) "can get a proper education these days. That's good, I believe. There were no such luxuries back in--" she caught herself before she sounded ancient by saying 'back in my day'.

"But, I'm sorry, You were saying something? The school is difficult?"

He chuckled softly. "I don't mind the descrimination. I inherrited so it's not like I'm stuck in poverty." His fingers twisted at his blindfold, a tic he couldn't seem to drop over the years. "College. Sometimes. BUt its not so hard. I spend most of my time studying anyways. I'm working in Healing and medical and I grew up around that so it's not so bad."

He frowned. "What about you? What do you do? Are you stuck out here in the woods all the time cause of your wings.?"

She smiled at his description of school. Maer had never had any real formal education herself--that she could remember, anyways, so it was always a small treat to hear a young person speak of schooling and what it is like.

Her smile broadened when Emrys asked his question. "Oh no, my friend. I live in the city, although I'd much rather live out here in the wild, as it is. I can...hide my wings, fold them up and put them under an illusion so that ordinary people cannot see them. It is not difficult, even though they do get cramped in sometimes."