T A L O N
13 Frost 122
The gentle crash of waves helped to soothe him. The feeling of the warm rays of morning’s first light on his skin had helped to banish the nightmare that had haunted him. The sound of a sigh followed by the feel of a broad hand sliding across his torso to wrap around his stomach had the rest of his night scare shivers fading. Aoren’s arm tightened around him. He was pulled against the firm front of his husband. The simple act of being snugly in the arms of the man he loved helped ease the tension that had built up between his shoulders. He burrowed more securely into the warmth of his partner’s arms, allowing himself to be cuddled.
The days following Mount Kaladon were a blur. According to Aoren, he had slept for over a week. When he had awoken, they were in Cathena City in the Republic of Cathena. He had brought them to the Temple of Avenna whereupon they had been granted temporary safe harbor. They now rested as guests in a relatively lavish estate in Cathena City. It was not the Palace of the First Wind but it was a close second. It was far enough away from the Northlands of Karnor that he did not feel pressured to suddenly uproot himself and return to the chaos of what awaited him there. It was far away from the borders of the Imperium. It was a place where nobody knew him as the kidnapped and fallen Prince of Kalzasi. He was not an emissary or agent of the empire.
He was just Talon. A weary and exhausted Avialae, resting and recovering with his husband in the coastal trade city that was capital to the desert republic. The advent of the eclipse brought to light his nature as a divine but the Cathenian authorities, being hosts to the goddess Avenna, did not seem all that perturbed by such a prospect. So there he lay, beneath the silk sheets and upon the luxurious pillows found only in one of the wealthiest nations on Ransera. He lay there and watched the sunrise through the open doors of the balcony. A soft breeze drifted in from the sea, causing the curtains to flutter. He followed the trail of shadows across the skies as they receded from the heavens to form the sphere of darkness that blocked the sun. As he watched, the shadows almost seemed to hesitate, giving him just a few more moments to gaze at the soft light of dawn.
“Will we be spending the day in bed today, beloved?” Aoren’s deep voice pulled him away from watching the sunrise. He felt the man stir behind him. The slide of bare skin against his backside chased away the remnants of the morning chill. He smiled softly as the warm press of tender lips upon his neck helped to soothe even more of the tension in his body.
“I would like that.” He trailed off. The feel of Aoren gently brushing his fingers up and down the length of his arm lulled him back into a warm and comfortable place. Before he knew it, he had dozed off. He awoke again when he felt Aoren shift beside him. Gently, very gently, the Kathar…well…the dragon, rose from the bed. Talon turned over to look at him. Aoren leaned down, squeezing his shoulder before kissing him softly on the brow.
“I will be back, love.” He watched as Aoren stretched his limbs, wings flexing as he walked toward the bathing room. Talon sat up then. He ran a hand through his hair. It was considerably longer than he was accustomed to but he found that he did not mind. The strands were still a stark white. He doubted they would ever return to their once dark black color. It was, perhaps, the only thing that would physically remain as a reminder of what he went through. Everything else was now something he had to sort through in his mind. After a few moments of simply sitting there, he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and slowly rose to his feet. He slipped on a lower robe, wrapping the sashes around his waist then stepped out onto the balcony.
As soon as he stepped outside, into the dark light of the eclipse, his aura manifested. He contracted it so that it was pulled tightly to his body. Aoren had established some wards around the bedroom that prevented his aura from expanding outward while he slept. Talon made a mental note to come up with a scrivening schema to assist him. He stretched his wings, happy to have the familiar weight of them upon his back. He still had a confusing mess of thoughts that he needed to sort through and…well…that would come with time. He did not entirely have the focus or will to face much of what he had been through over the past year. Most of it had been a nightmarish blur. He often felt like a passenger in his own body. He did not know how long that sensation would last.
Footsteps drifted to his ears and he felt Aoren’s presence return. Aoren’s form beside him was comforting. Their wings brushed together. The dragon wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. As he did, Aoren kissed the side of his head. It was good to feel something other than pain, rage, and anguish. He leaned into Aoren’s embrace accepting a cup of coffee as it was offered to him. He brought the hot beverage to his lips and took a sip. Coffee was wildly more popular in Cathena than tea though not by much. He had found he had begun to take a liking to it. Staring out over Cathena City, he focused on nothing in particular, simply letting his mind wander. As he took another sip, he spoke softly.
“Do you hate them?” He clarified. “The Imperium.”
There was a pause.
“I hate what they did to you.” Aoren joined him at the balcony rail, the two of them sipping coffee as they stared out over the city. Over the past few days, the two of them had been circling around this conversation. He knew Aoren did not want to push him. He did not know if he was ready to be pushed.
“I…am an Imperial, Talon. The truth of my life is something even I am still sorting through. I do not--did not--speak on my life much because as terrible as some of the things the empire has done…it is still my home. Do I hate the Inquisition? Yes. Do I want to burn the palace to the ground? Yes. Do I hate all Imperials?” Aoren paused. He grasped his cup with both hands, one thumb rubbing along the rim of the cup. His expression was a mix of emotions.
“I can’t. Part of me wants to but---” Talon finished for him.
“They are your people.” As Aoren’s head dipped down as though in shame, Talon reached out to cup the man by the cheek. Aoren looked at him, eyes alight with concern.
“Am I a coward for still loving my people even after what has been done to us, to you?” Talon brushed a thumb over the ridge of Aoren’s cheekbone.
“No.” Aoren turned his head, kissing his palm. Talon was warmed by the act. His feelings on the empire were conflicted. He had people that he definitively hated, he could admit that. However, the empire had given him people like Aoren, who had trauma of their own, but who were lights in his life. Mathias was another Imperial whom he had come to care for. Asher was another who he had come to care for as well.
“I have been having dreams. Dreams of a child. My child. My son.” The words felt heavy. Aoren flinched. They had quietly avoided that subject too.
“Talon…I…” He shook his head. Aoren hung his head. He took a sip from his coffee before continuing. “How do you know you have a son?”
Talon could feel him. He could feel a wellspring of life to the east. If he concentrated he thought he could see a silver line tethering him to someone in that direction. It was familiar in a sense. Not quite as potent as the Bond but it was there.
“I can feel him.” He took another sip of his coffee.
“You are returning to the empire.” It was not a question but Talon nodded in response to the statement anyways. “Then, so am I.”
He did not bother arguing. He knew that Aoren would absolutely, vehemently refuse to let him return to Gel’Grandal by himself. Truth be told, he did not want to return to the Imperium alone. He did not know what awaited them there but he knew that he would face it. He would not leave his child alone in the clutches of the Inquisition, let alone that vilesome man that still haunted his nightmares.
“I don’t suppose they’ll appreciate arriving bringing wrath and brimstone.” Talon chuckled. He could very well imagine arriving alongside his beloved dragon, bringing with him destruction aplenty. But…Talon had his fill of death, destruction and sacrifice. His feelings toward the Imperium were complicated. The empire was no longer this spectral phantom in the distance, looming overhead. The Emperor was a real man. A man who had surprised him. A man who had shocked him with his insight and humanity. The people of the Imperium were people just like any other. They had their struggles. They had their pride and their pain.
If there was one thing that was certain following his ordeal for the past year, it was that he was a changed man. He had been broken. Beaten. Enslaved and finally freed. He would heal but he would never be the same. He was not sure that he even wanted to be the same as before. How could he after everything he had been through and seen?
“We should depart. I am due for a report soon.” He gave a wry smile. An in-person report would certainly be something. Aoren finished his coffee then took his cup from him. The dragon stepped up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. His eyes burned with all the fire and heat of a volcano. Leaning in, Aoren kissed his neck, sending shivers through Talon’s body.
“Soon, love. First…” Aoren slid a hand over his body, maneuvering him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Talon gasped and moaned softly. After a moment he chuckled, entwining his fingers through Aoren’s hair.
“There is the matter of your birthday present, beloved.” Aoren’s eyes glowed like banked coals. Talon blinked, a blush crossing his face.
His husband grinned.
----
After bidding their host a farewell, Talon concentrated. He extended his senses into the Slipspace, aligning the spatial pathways that connected all points in reality. Once he had aligned them he funneled his aether into their structure, building a webwork outward from that point until he created an archway between himself and the point he was concentrating on. The world in front of him twisted in on itself before splitting open to form a portal. He opened the portal just above the Imperial bay.
“You are sure about this?” Not for the first time, Aoren checked in on him. Was he sure? No. He absolutely was not. But if he hesitated forever, he would get nowhere.
“No. I am not. But…when has that ever stopped me?” He smiled at his partner. The two of them touched brows for a moment before stepping through the portal. As it closed behind him, Talon hovered there in the air, his wings extended. He simply let the sea breeze ghost over him. Gel’Grandal had a unique scent all its own. The smell of coal, industry, sorcery and society. It was a hub of civilization, even if that civilization had committed atrocities that were complex and difficult to navigate cleanly. There in the waning hours of twilight, he kept his aura wrapped tightly around his body. He was assisted by a schema of glyphs and pictographs that he had carefully woven over his arms, torso and legs. It required less conscious thought but he needed to refine the workings of it in order to truly master it. He looked to the Palace of Spires. He looked at the various apparatus around the city that were projecting the power of Dawnstone and Moonstone. He was not surprised that the empire was prepared. Knowing what he did now, it was something he deeply understood to be true about the empire.
They were always prepared.
“It looks like we are expected.” Aoren’s voice was a deep rumble. He could practically feel the dragonfire that was welling up inside of his partner. He gently soothed him. Six winged Kathar were flying toward them. He recognized them as part of the retinue that had always accompanied him wherever he went while in the city. When they were near, the six knight came to a stop, hovering in the air in front of him.
“Prince Talon. Sir Aoren. Welcome home.” The knight pressed a hand to his chest, the six of them bowing slightly before righting themselves. “We have been sent to escort you.”
“Thank you.” He and Aoren shared a look before they both steeled themselves. As the two of them set off toward the Palace of Spires, the six Kathar made a formation around them. While he did not know what awaited them, and while he felt fear, he let that infuse him and embolden him. He would not be ruled by his fear but he would use it. He knew that no matter what happened, he would be tested in one way or another. After all…
The Imperium was always prepared.
The gentle crash of waves helped to soothe him. The feeling of the warm rays of morning’s first light on his skin had helped to banish the nightmare that had haunted him. The sound of a sigh followed by the feel of a broad hand sliding across his torso to wrap around his stomach had the rest of his night scare shivers fading. Aoren’s arm tightened around him. He was pulled against the firm front of his husband. The simple act of being snugly in the arms of the man he loved helped ease the tension that had built up between his shoulders. He burrowed more securely into the warmth of his partner’s arms, allowing himself to be cuddled.
The days following Mount Kaladon were a blur. According to Aoren, he had slept for over a week. When he had awoken, they were in Cathena City in the Republic of Cathena. He had brought them to the Temple of Avenna whereupon they had been granted temporary safe harbor. They now rested as guests in a relatively lavish estate in Cathena City. It was not the Palace of the First Wind but it was a close second. It was far enough away from the Northlands of Karnor that he did not feel pressured to suddenly uproot himself and return to the chaos of what awaited him there. It was far away from the borders of the Imperium. It was a place where nobody knew him as the kidnapped and fallen Prince of Kalzasi. He was not an emissary or agent of the empire.
He was just Talon. A weary and exhausted Avialae, resting and recovering with his husband in the coastal trade city that was capital to the desert republic. The advent of the eclipse brought to light his nature as a divine but the Cathenian authorities, being hosts to the goddess Avenna, did not seem all that perturbed by such a prospect. So there he lay, beneath the silk sheets and upon the luxurious pillows found only in one of the wealthiest nations on Ransera. He lay there and watched the sunrise through the open doors of the balcony. A soft breeze drifted in from the sea, causing the curtains to flutter. He followed the trail of shadows across the skies as they receded from the heavens to form the sphere of darkness that blocked the sun. As he watched, the shadows almost seemed to hesitate, giving him just a few more moments to gaze at the soft light of dawn.
“Will we be spending the day in bed today, beloved?” Aoren’s deep voice pulled him away from watching the sunrise. He felt the man stir behind him. The slide of bare skin against his backside chased away the remnants of the morning chill. He smiled softly as the warm press of tender lips upon his neck helped to soothe even more of the tension in his body.
“I would like that.” He trailed off. The feel of Aoren gently brushing his fingers up and down the length of his arm lulled him back into a warm and comfortable place. Before he knew it, he had dozed off. He awoke again when he felt Aoren shift beside him. Gently, very gently, the Kathar…well…the dragon, rose from the bed. Talon turned over to look at him. Aoren leaned down, squeezing his shoulder before kissing him softly on the brow.
“I will be back, love.” He watched as Aoren stretched his limbs, wings flexing as he walked toward the bathing room. Talon sat up then. He ran a hand through his hair. It was considerably longer than he was accustomed to but he found that he did not mind. The strands were still a stark white. He doubted they would ever return to their once dark black color. It was, perhaps, the only thing that would physically remain as a reminder of what he went through. Everything else was now something he had to sort through in his mind. After a few moments of simply sitting there, he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and slowly rose to his feet. He slipped on a lower robe, wrapping the sashes around his waist then stepped out onto the balcony.
As soon as he stepped outside, into the dark light of the eclipse, his aura manifested. He contracted it so that it was pulled tightly to his body. Aoren had established some wards around the bedroom that prevented his aura from expanding outward while he slept. Talon made a mental note to come up with a scrivening schema to assist him. He stretched his wings, happy to have the familiar weight of them upon his back. He still had a confusing mess of thoughts that he needed to sort through and…well…that would come with time. He did not entirely have the focus or will to face much of what he had been through over the past year. Most of it had been a nightmarish blur. He often felt like a passenger in his own body. He did not know how long that sensation would last.
Footsteps drifted to his ears and he felt Aoren’s presence return. Aoren’s form beside him was comforting. Their wings brushed together. The dragon wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. As he did, Aoren kissed the side of his head. It was good to feel something other than pain, rage, and anguish. He leaned into Aoren’s embrace accepting a cup of coffee as it was offered to him. He brought the hot beverage to his lips and took a sip. Coffee was wildly more popular in Cathena than tea though not by much. He had found he had begun to take a liking to it. Staring out over Cathena City, he focused on nothing in particular, simply letting his mind wander. As he took another sip, he spoke softly.
“Do you hate them?” He clarified. “The Imperium.”
There was a pause.
“I hate what they did to you.” Aoren joined him at the balcony rail, the two of them sipping coffee as they stared out over the city. Over the past few days, the two of them had been circling around this conversation. He knew Aoren did not want to push him. He did not know if he was ready to be pushed.
“I…am an Imperial, Talon. The truth of my life is something even I am still sorting through. I do not--did not--speak on my life much because as terrible as some of the things the empire has done…it is still my home. Do I hate the Inquisition? Yes. Do I want to burn the palace to the ground? Yes. Do I hate all Imperials?” Aoren paused. He grasped his cup with both hands, one thumb rubbing along the rim of the cup. His expression was a mix of emotions.
“I can’t. Part of me wants to but---” Talon finished for him.
“They are your people.” As Aoren’s head dipped down as though in shame, Talon reached out to cup the man by the cheek. Aoren looked at him, eyes alight with concern.
“Am I a coward for still loving my people even after what has been done to us, to you?” Talon brushed a thumb over the ridge of Aoren’s cheekbone.
“No.” Aoren turned his head, kissing his palm. Talon was warmed by the act. His feelings on the empire were conflicted. He had people that he definitively hated, he could admit that. However, the empire had given him people like Aoren, who had trauma of their own, but who were lights in his life. Mathias was another Imperial whom he had come to care for. Asher was another who he had come to care for as well.
“I have been having dreams. Dreams of a child. My child. My son.” The words felt heavy. Aoren flinched. They had quietly avoided that subject too.
“Talon…I…” He shook his head. Aoren hung his head. He took a sip from his coffee before continuing. “How do you know you have a son?”
Talon could feel him. He could feel a wellspring of life to the east. If he concentrated he thought he could see a silver line tethering him to someone in that direction. It was familiar in a sense. Not quite as potent as the Bond but it was there.
“I can feel him.” He took another sip of his coffee.
“You are returning to the empire.” It was not a question but Talon nodded in response to the statement anyways. “Then, so am I.”
He did not bother arguing. He knew that Aoren would absolutely, vehemently refuse to let him return to Gel’Grandal by himself. Truth be told, he did not want to return to the Imperium alone. He did not know what awaited them there but he knew that he would face it. He would not leave his child alone in the clutches of the Inquisition, let alone that vilesome man that still haunted his nightmares.
“I don’t suppose they’ll appreciate arriving bringing wrath and brimstone.” Talon chuckled. He could very well imagine arriving alongside his beloved dragon, bringing with him destruction aplenty. But…Talon had his fill of death, destruction and sacrifice. His feelings toward the Imperium were complicated. The empire was no longer this spectral phantom in the distance, looming overhead. The Emperor was a real man. A man who had surprised him. A man who had shocked him with his insight and humanity. The people of the Imperium were people just like any other. They had their struggles. They had their pride and their pain.
If there was one thing that was certain following his ordeal for the past year, it was that he was a changed man. He had been broken. Beaten. Enslaved and finally freed. He would heal but he would never be the same. He was not sure that he even wanted to be the same as before. How could he after everything he had been through and seen?
“We should depart. I am due for a report soon.” He gave a wry smile. An in-person report would certainly be something. Aoren finished his coffee then took his cup from him. The dragon stepped up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. His eyes burned with all the fire and heat of a volcano. Leaning in, Aoren kissed his neck, sending shivers through Talon’s body.
“Soon, love. First…” Aoren slid a hand over his body, maneuvering him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Talon gasped and moaned softly. After a moment he chuckled, entwining his fingers through Aoren’s hair.
“There is the matter of your birthday present, beloved.” Aoren’s eyes glowed like banked coals. Talon blinked, a blush crossing his face.
His husband grinned.
----
After bidding their host a farewell, Talon concentrated. He extended his senses into the Slipspace, aligning the spatial pathways that connected all points in reality. Once he had aligned them he funneled his aether into their structure, building a webwork outward from that point until he created an archway between himself and the point he was concentrating on. The world in front of him twisted in on itself before splitting open to form a portal. He opened the portal just above the Imperial bay.
“You are sure about this?” Not for the first time, Aoren checked in on him. Was he sure? No. He absolutely was not. But if he hesitated forever, he would get nowhere.
“No. I am not. But…when has that ever stopped me?” He smiled at his partner. The two of them touched brows for a moment before stepping through the portal. As it closed behind him, Talon hovered there in the air, his wings extended. He simply let the sea breeze ghost over him. Gel’Grandal had a unique scent all its own. The smell of coal, industry, sorcery and society. It was a hub of civilization, even if that civilization had committed atrocities that were complex and difficult to navigate cleanly. There in the waning hours of twilight, he kept his aura wrapped tightly around his body. He was assisted by a schema of glyphs and pictographs that he had carefully woven over his arms, torso and legs. It required less conscious thought but he needed to refine the workings of it in order to truly master it. He looked to the Palace of Spires. He looked at the various apparatus around the city that were projecting the power of Dawnstone and Moonstone. He was not surprised that the empire was prepared. Knowing what he did now, it was something he deeply understood to be true about the empire.
They were always prepared.
“It looks like we are expected.” Aoren’s voice was a deep rumble. He could practically feel the dragonfire that was welling up inside of his partner. He gently soothed him. Six winged Kathar were flying toward them. He recognized them as part of the retinue that had always accompanied him wherever he went while in the city. When they were near, the six knight came to a stop, hovering in the air in front of him.
“Prince Talon. Sir Aoren. Welcome home.” The knight pressed a hand to his chest, the six of them bowing slightly before righting themselves. “We have been sent to escort you.”
“Thank you.” He and Aoren shared a look before they both steeled themselves. As the two of them set off toward the Palace of Spires, the six Kathar made a formation around them. While he did not know what awaited them, and while he felt fear, he let that infuse him and embolden him. He would not be ruled by his fear but he would use it. He knew that no matter what happened, he would be tested in one way or another. After all…
The Imperium was always prepared.