Lights In The Darkness [Khyan]

[Hilana Chenzira]

(Closed - Khyan)

43 Searing, Year 122
Evening

Hilana was the only one of her sisters who deigned to have a job outside the home, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. She enjoyed it - she was learning, she was getting more and more hands-on with what many people would have seen as grunt work, but botany and herbalism was about getting your hands dirty. If one wanted to be clean and tidy all the time… that was hardly a career for them. As it was, the sweetgrass in the back of the garden was ready for harvesting, and one of her tasks as the student and assistant was getting it prepared for its later use. And the best way to prepare it, Vasilei had told her, was to braid it.

That had been her morning - setting up the portable sun shield under a canvas tarp over a wooden frame, and settling down amongst the garden with a good pair of snipping pliers and a sharp knife. Her long skirts had been bundled around her knees - not because she had concern for the garment itself, but because she would have to go back into the shop, and an apron wasn’t going to save her hems. The long blades and strands, some of them almost as long as she was, were cut carefully and placed in the tall, wide-mouthed basket that was made of woven reeds. It was steady work, even under the relentless heat of the sun despite the protective shade, and she was still glad to be back inside with the sweetgrass. In between tending to customers, assisting them with bottles and vials, diagnosing and prescribing under Vasilei’s watchful eye, she would return to the table in the back corner to braid it. Sometimes just single-strand braids, sometimes more. Long braids, hung to tie, sometimes crown-like circles hung on pegs, some smaller and thicker bundles wrapped with themselves and hung that way. She found she enjoyed the scent of it; the way the aromatic sweetness stayed on her hands. It was relaxing, calming, and she wasn’t inclined to wash the scent away.

They would press some into oil, more would be brewed for teas and drinks for sickness, more still would be burned. Once sweetgrass dried, he had explained, it didn’t spark with an active flame. It smouldered, which made it ideal for allowing the scent and properties of the plant to become airborne and used as an inhalant and cleanser. A few shorter strands were turned into a bracelet, and she slipped it over her wrist like a bangle.

The sun had set by the time she left Sweet Remedies, making her way out into the cooling evening. The streets of the market were becoming more and more active as magical lights and lanterns assisted the stars with adding a brightness to the streets. The way the marketplace transformed once the sun went down was perhaps her favourite part of working there. The flowing, tiered skirt, dyed a rich hue of blue, rustled quietly with each step she made, and her fitted, sleeveless linen shirt exposed her midriff that was a more pale, natural colour. Her long hair was tied up and out of the way with her bandana, another flash of colour amidst the dark. It would be a long walk home to her apartment in the Antiquine District, but time flew when you were having fun.

[Khyan Nykara]

Since Nykara prospects had begun waning toward a grim outcome in the trial, Khyan had taken to treating his existential dread with the numbing effects of alcohol. His evenings were spent haunting his favourite spots throughout the city- a sort of preemptive farewell tour, just in case further opportunities to debauch himself in those venues were unceremoniously cut short.

So it was that, on the evening of 43 Searing 122 Steel, Vinicius Nykara Khyan found himself at Mundus Vini. It was one of the nicer tabernas in the district, with a shaded outdoor section that sat on a dock over the presently placid Vasta River. He arrived before sundown friendless, as many who'd once kept in his orbit had since jettisoned the increasingly socially toxic Nykara heir, but he'd quickly charmed a few of the other patrons and had drink after drink purchased for him until, ultimately, he outlasted the fun folks and found himself heavily intoxicated amongst other heavy drinkers.

Eventually, though he wouldn't recall the course of events that took him there, Khyan wound up on the roof of the building with a dwindling bottle. Whether he'd climbed up to stargaze or escape a bar brawl or something altogether different, on the roof he was- alone and heartily inebriated. In this state, it seemed like a good idea to Khyan to experiment with his most recent totem. Prior to acquiring this totem, he'd only ever delved into the realm of reptiles and serpents at that. His novel, avian experiments were a significant departure- Particularly since he'd only started to advance to the point where he could practise the art of Morphery, which enabled him to fully assume the form of his totem creatures.

The alcohol did something to ease the agony of the slow and painstaking transition from mostly human boy to bird, but it didn't ease the mental side of things as he heard the cracking of bones and joints and felt his flesh tighten and alter in texture. This took concentration and his faculties were not altogether his own. He wasn't sure how long it took, but by and by a magpie was ostensibly nesting in the pile of clothes he'd prior donned.

However long the transition had taken, it hadn't been enough to sober him up, so despite his failure to grasp the physical mechanics of flight from the safety of the ground, it seemed like a good idea to try leaping from the side of the building to glide through the air. Grand as the notion seemed to his bird brain at the time, his flight of fancy didn't yield a flight of reality and flapping pitifully he descended onto the sandy street in a graceless tumble. Flitting chaotically for a few more moments in an attempt to reclaim access to the air, he just let out a caw and collapsed into a pile of feathers in the sand.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Even though she was outside in the streets rather than stepping into one of the public houses, there was music everywhere, and you didn’t have to be a Mesmer to hear it. The string instruments, the reeds, the percussion… her hips moved to the sound of a tambourine as she walked, a skip in her step despite the very long day she had had. The music joined shouts of voices, of laughter, of people calling and greeting others, salesmen trying to entice those who had come out now that the brutish heat of the sun had waned. All kinds of crafters, from the tailors who plied fabrics to those who tinkered with metal and mechanics, all of them had stalls and open doors. There was plenty to see and savour, and if she hadn’t grown up in Tertium, it might have been overwhelming. But what was really getting her attention was the food vendors. While she had had a good lunch, she had worked up an appetite, and the sizzling meats and seasoned vegetables and breads were not helping.

She stopped to get a stick of kebabs from one of the vendors, paying quite happily for the reed skewer that was loaded with seasoned beef and some potatoes. A small sack of roasted chickpeas went into her rucksack. The rest of her food she could make when she got home. As she was making her way past the the throbbing crowd thronging around Mundus Vini, a shadow of something caught her eye in the night sky. And when she looked closer, pulling a piece of succulent meat off the skewer, she realized what it was: a bird. And as she watched it try to flap, try to fly, Hilana knew something was wrong with it. It was all she could do to hitch her skirts with her free hand and start running, the skewer clenched in her teeth, looking for all the world like a wild thing as she tried to catch the falling creature before it hit the ground with the extended hand.

The distance was too great, however, and she came up short. But the young woman was able to watch his attempts to flap in the sand, exhaling. His wings didn’t seem broken, but he had to be disoriented, perhaps concussed or shocked. She hoped he hadn’t broken a leg in the unceremonious landing on the sandy street, though. She made gentle crooning sounds as she crouched in front of him, letting her skirts pool around her again so that she could carefully lift the magpie up, checking him over in what lights there were in the street. One hand carefully tucked his wings down, smoothing feathers, as the fingers of her other hand checked his legs, feeling for any broken bones. She let her fingers do the work, knowing that with only her there, trying to turn over a fussy, panicking bird to check his legs visually as well was just going to be difficult. Once she was satisfied that nothing seemed broken, she had a look at his eyes, using the lights above and around him to check his pupils, continuing her sh-sh-sh sounds. She did make sure to keep her eyes out of reach of that beak, in the event that he decided to have a go at her with it. Definitely not completely there. Something had gone to the wee bird’s head, and so she rose to her feet, tucking him against her chest and finally taking the skewer out of her mouth. “I got you, little one,” she was gentle, her hold gentle enough to avoid damaging him, but secure enough to prevent any more flapping. Her hold on his toes gave him the opportunity to dig his nails into her hand and fingers if he so wanted, and the silver and copper earrings shimmered and reflected the lights around them. “Let’s get you home, hm?”

Hilana was not a practitioner of Semblance, or any other matters of the Arcane, and as far as she was concerned, what she had was a very sick bird that certainly needed help, something for nausea, water, and plenty of nursing. “You’re going to be alright, little one. Little Starshine. We will get you better. We’ll be home soon.”

[Khyan Nykara]

The lazing eyelids shot open at the sound of nearby cooing, and his nictitating membrane blinked sideways as his bead-like eyes gaped up at the ostensible giantess looming above. He opened his beak to emit a chitter of protestation that pulsated, visibly throbbing in his gullet. The giantess either didn't comprehend his objection or dismissed it, but whatever the case he was being lifted from his sandy bed and inspected by large, brown eyes.

Even in his less than sober state and without accessing his rune of Semblance (He wouldn't have known how in his current form, though he tried), he could tell that her intent was to soothe him. There was consolation in that if, perhaps, she was merely a concerned citizen- But this was also one of the poorer parts of the capital that Khyan deigned to haunt, so it was also possible she planned to soothe him right into a stewpot. A vulnerable bird on the street would have been a cheaper meal for an indigent Vastian than the stalls offered. From his current vantage, he couldn't see enough of the giantess to make an assessment as to what level of danger she posed, but he certainly hadn't the energy to recompose his human form so soon after toiling his way into this one.

He let out a few, artless caws as he tried to form words in an unfamiliar larynx and without many of the tools to which he was accustomed- Such as lips and teeth. Failing to produce anything approaching comprehensible Vastian, he merely created awkward, unusual sounds that would probably only further vindicate the assumption that he was sick or wounded.

Soon he was being turned over and tested, which felt like an abominable violation against which he rebelled by flapping and squawking until she held his wings taut and he eventually resigned his rebellious endeavour with the avian equivalent of a harumph.

She continued speaking gently, and he processed the words of comfort, supposing he would do well to reserve further exertion and rest up so he might reclaim his natural form before she had a chance to do harm to his corvid one. Once he was settled, the eyes of the magpie focused, perforce, upon the shiny earrings dangling in view. Shiny just hit differently with the vision of a magpie, it seemed, and he found himself lulled into awe by their jangling motion. He stared at their pendulous movement as the giantess moved and ere long on their journey the lids were lolling closed over his beady little eyes, and he was asleep.

[Hilana Chenzira]

To be fair to Khyan, his assumptions and suspicions were not too far off base. While she saw an opportunity to help and heal a sick bird now, Hilana had killed her share of wild birds to eat as a child when tending the flocks with the older boys who knew meat came when you could find it. But from those lessons, she knew, too: if it acted sick, it would make you sick. Plus, the corvids were just poor eating. You were better off taming one, simply because they were quite intelligent birds, and that could be useful when you were in the deserts. To top it off, while corvids were quite lean birds anyway, she knew from her careful probing over his breastbone that this one was skinny even for a magpie. Helping him and perhaps gaining a pet was worth far more than a decidedly unsatisfactory meal.

When he stopped protesting, tucked into safety though he was, Hilana’s steps had a renewed purpose. She might have been inclined to take her time on her trip home, to enjoy the sights and absorb the energy of the crowd, but in an instant, things had changed. Now she had a patient, and she'd rather not dawdle. Time counted when someone was sick, and this little magpie seemed to be a bit far gone. She knew that it wasn't her soothing that had calmed him; it was far more likely that he just didn't have the energy to protest and complain further. By the time she left Port Vasta, her kebab was finished, the reed skewer discarded into a garbage bin, and she headed for the Antiquine District and her home. It wasn't Sorokyne, but that didn't bother her - she wasn't as ostentatious as the rest of her family tended to be, but she was realistic enough to know she was not about to bed down with those desperate enough to do a lot of harm just to get a meal.

Hilana knew she had been lucky to get the apartment - it was spacious enough, furnished, and in one of the nicer neighbourhoods of the district. She knew she would be keeping strange hours, and she hadn't been interested in a rooming house, especially with her predilection towards creatures of all kinds. But the activity of the area was a good sort - there was always going to be crime, except perhaps in the areas where the more regal elves lived, but even then... that was just something that was kept hidden from the rest of them. As she walked, she kept checking on the sleeping bird, careful not to jostle him unduly and wake him from his slumber. She could still feel the faint movements of his chest that indicated breath; and that was important. His head was supported with her fingers, making sure that his airway stayed unobstructed, and if his breath hitched, she would know and could make adjustments. She let herself into the building and made her way up a couple of flights of stairs, and unlocked the door at the end of the hallway, letting herself in. The door closed and locked behind her, and after slipping off her sandals, she made her way towards the kitchen.

There, she turned on one of the lamps, the light emanating from the window helping to illuminate the tidy space as well. "Little Starshine," she murmured to him, gathering up a few soft hand towels to make a nest in a woven reed basket for him. She didn't set him down just yet as she arranged the towels to form a supportive ring - birds needed to be propped up, after all, or they would have problems. This way he could rest his abdomen and chest, and be able to be relatively upright. "Are you thirsty?" the Vastian woman carefully stroked his beak and head with her finger before getting a bowl of water and a spoon, setting it on the table before placing him carefully in the nest. One hand still lingered near his back, hoping that he wasn't going to decide to make another attempt at flight as she gathered water in the spoon, bringing it close to his beak to see if he could be enticed to drink on his own.

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan the Magpie offered no further resistance during the course of their trip to the apartments of the giantess. She succeeded in keeping him comfortable enough to let him doze quite peacefully. He may have been jostled awake a time or two en route, but he wouldn't remember it if so. When he woke to the sound of a gentle voice saying "Little Starshine", he would have no idea where he was.

Where am I? He asked, though the words didn't form into aught more than an unintelligible chitter. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, nor how far they'd travelled whilst he was. Were they even in the Port Vasta district, anymore? He could scarcely tell from the room, and from this vantage he couldn't glean much from what was visible outside the window.

He looked at her quizzically as she spoke to him, tilting his head weakly and blinking. He supposed he was thirsty, and so he twittered in the affirmative. The giantess' attentiveness verged on smothering, he thought, as he craned his neck forward to drink a bit of the water. He'd never had a drink of water as a magpie before, and he wasn't prepared for what it would be like to taste with this particular tongue. It wasn't like the more familiar tongue of a serpent, nor like the consummately explored tongue of a human. It was somewhere in between, insofar as it bore taste buds like the latter but not nearly so many. He'd never thought of water as being flavourful before, but on the tongue of a bird blandness didn't begin to describe it. Still, it felt good as it went down his gullet. He drank a few spoonfuls until it no longer felt as good, and then clapped his beak shut and tried to nestle into the little bed that had been prepared for him.

He still didn't feel himself. Well, of course he wasn't himself at the moment, but that is to say he still felt drunk, dreamy and still far too weak to attempt to revert to his human form. Khyan had never inquired as to whether it was true of all practitioners of Animus, but for him it was easier to assume the form of a smaller animal than it was to rebuild the mass of something larger- like his natural state. Part of shrinking down felt like letting go, while growing larger felt like building a house from the ground up with tools too small to do the job efficiently.

Why did I think it was a good idea to transform tonight? he wondered, as his eyes slowly shut once more and he let his head descend slowly onto the soft towel.

[Hilana Chenzira]

"There you are, Starshine," she smiled down at the magpie when he chittered at her, letting him drink as much as he would take. When he turned his head and beak away, she didn't trouble him to try to take more. An animal knew what it could and couldn't take, after all, and this way, she could at least get him rehydrated and hopefully get some food in him to deal with the shock. But with the way he laid his head down on the soft towels, she had a feeling he wasn't going to eat. But with the nest in the basket on the table, she could reheat her own food and keep an eye on him. If he did wake up and he did want something, then she had plenty. Magpies were opportunistic feeders, and they would eat what they could get. She had another thought, wondering if he had ingested something that had been poisoned. But with no way of knowing... she would have to let nature take its course, and let him rest. Perhaps that would be enough, and when he was ready, she could try to feed him.

She had made herself a larger batch of koshari and kibbeh a few days ago, simply on the grounds that bulk-batch meals were easiest when you were busy, and this way, it was there when she wanted it. And considering how late it was, starting a whole new meal this late wasn't a particularly good idea. She scooped some of the koshari, the mixture of chickpeas, rice, lentils, onions, and so much more, into a smaller pot and set it over the burner of the stove to warm up, adding a little bit of water to it before pulling out the leftover kibbeh, the meatballs, and setting them on top. The steam from the water and sauce would warm everything up, and keep it from drying out in the process, and Hilana rinsed off a few of the cooked chickpeas to get the spices off before placing them along the towels by the magpie's head in the event he desired a snack. She helped herself to the roasted chickpeas in her bag, leaning against the counter and watching her patient while her dinner warmed up.

The rest of the night was uneventful - Tiaz was curled up on his branches in his enclosure, the Vasti woman ate, cleaned her dishes and cleaned herself, before carefully lifting the basket-nest and carrying it with her to her bedroom, placing it by the pillow on the bed before changing out of her clothes and hanging them up. Her thick hair was undone and then worked into two braids, and she eased herself into the bed, making sure she didn't jostle the carefully padded bird. With luck, he would be more awake and aware in the morning. Settling under the blanket, Hilana watched him for a while until her own brown eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep.

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan groaned and smacked his lips, which ought to have been telling in itself had he been more wakeful, and squinted at the sunlight beaming directly onto his face. It was bright enough that everything looked red, rather than black, with his eyes closed and the heat of it was forcing him toward reluctantly stirring. Being somewhat conscious, he was now conscious of a few other sources of discomfort afflicting his form.

There was, of course, the splitting headache coupled with a dry throat. There was a general cloudy-headedness and then there was something pinching the skin around his midsection. Had he fallen asleep on his side with a very awkward, weirdly stiff belt on? He lifted his head and squinted to regard the source of the sensation.

"Whuh...?" His torso was rounded by the handle of a woven basket, the bowl of which was partway cupping his bum though most of his was at his lower back. "Ow." He said, softly, letting his head fall back to the bed and lazily squirming his way out of wearing wicker. It had left marks where it had lingered at length, and scratched his smooth patrician skin which was typically blemishless (he assumed due to his quarter elven ancestry) on the way off. But finally, he kicked it off the bed and nestled back into a more comfortable foetal position.

Still that bloody sun was right in his eyes, though. With a whimper, he rolled onto his other side, where he found himself face-to-face with a strange woman. He started, and gaped for a brief moment with wide eyes, but managed not to shriek. This wasn't the first time he'd woken up in a strange bed next to an unfamiliar face after a night of heavy drinking. The first time he'd been horrified, but nowadays he just tried to play it off in such a way as not to embarrass himself or the strange bedmate. The last thing anyone wanted to be thought of was a forgettable lay.

So, he adopted a cordial smile and regarded the person his drunken self had apparently selected for a bed partner. She was gorgeous, he thought, though it had been quite a spell since the last time he'd wound up with a woman... Well, at least one-on-one.

[Hilana Chenzira]

While she'd gotten used to having a more sound sleep over the last two years or so that had been spent more in houses than in tents on bedrolls, always sleeping with one eye and both ears on alert that you got used to in the desert, Hilana was still a light sleeper. She'd woken up a time or two in the night, just to check on her patient and make sure that he was still with them in the world of the living, and satisfied that he hadn't left the mortal coil, she had gone back to sleep.

The room was nice enough, even in the light. It at least didn't seem to be some seedy pit above a tavern, but a bedroom that someone apparently lived in. It may not have been as nice as what he was used to, but it could certainly have been worse. Brightly coloured skirts hung on hangers, a small table had a few cosmetics and jewelry, the rugs were clean and serviceable, if not elaborate. It smelled nice, not from any discernible burning incense, but from little pots of plants and herbs, and more of them hanging from the rafters in clusters to dry. What in the name of the holy founders had he stumbled on?

When the woven basket had hit the rugs on the floor surrounding the bed, Hilana did stir. It may have only been a muffled sound, but it was enough for her groggy brain to register. Had Starshine fallen? When another form moved on the bed, she did find herself blinking awake to see a young Vastian man right where she had left her Magpie. That got her attention, and even though he had a polite smile fixed on his face, she was more concerned about the bird, and where the bird had gone to. The fact that Khyan was naked registered, but didn't faze her as she pushed herself up into a seated position, looking around. "Starshine?" It turned out that she, too, was also naked, but where he was largely unblemished, she had her share of scars on her hands and arms that he could at least see, tokens from work and play and childhood shenanigans. None of them seemed too gnarly, and most of them fairly faded, but she was looking around for something - not at the surroundings, so this was likely her place, but she rose up even higher on the bed, seeing the basket on the floor, and the soft towels underneath her new guest.

"Starshine?" she repeated, looking down at him. "There was a magpie," Hilana told him by way of explanation. "That I left exactly where you are now."

[Khyan Nykara]

That was not the reception to which Khyan was accustomed. Least of all from partners of obviously lower rank. They typically ran the gamut from grateful to grumpy. The former, because he was a very adept lover who took full advantage of his mastery over Semblance to divine the most marvelous sensations, which he could tap into himself to amplify his own pleasure with that of others. The latter was typically due to his being a noted enabler who encouraged those around him to match him drink for drink, though many hadn’t his tolerance.

But such as things were, the woman seemed largely unconcerned with him. That was novel. Even in decline, he was a lord among men and certainly worthy of more attention from a peasant with a quaint apartment and with so small a bed.

“Starshine?” On second utterance, the term resonated. He looked again upon the woman’s visage and a familiarity began to burgeon.

“Ohhh…” The mention of a magpie sealed it. Though he didn’t remember many of the details, he could now recall the cracking pain of the shift, his pitiful attempt at flight and then…

“The giantess.” He realised and said it simultaneously, and winced. “You can cease your hunt.” Khyan was suddenly conscious of his nudity, now that he realised it was novel to her eyes- at least in the present form. Drawing the sheets up to cover his lower half, he clarified:

“That was me. I was your, um… starshine. Animus, you understand. I’m classically trained.” He noted, unnecessarily with a bit of pride.

“Sorry to put you out, but…” He knitted his brow in contemplation. It was very queer that he should wake human when he fell asleep avian. He shook his head, deciding there was no reason to bring her into his line of thought.


“Anyway. I don’t suppose you know what became of my clothes, do you?”