TIMESTAMP: 72 Ash, year 122
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► Show Spoiler
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While busy learning and relearning what was necessary for his upcoming career shift, Æros was always a social creature. He found himself spending a lot of his breaks in the company of others due to the fact that a large portion of that study was spent reading on his own. It wasn't as if he disliked reading, nay, it was that the sheer volume of things he needed to brush up on and learn was massive– consequently, even with tutors, a lot of his time was spent alone.
That being the case, it was always an extremely welcome distraction whenever friends, colleagues, and the like would call upon him to request his attention. Further, when one of his newer acquaintances would call after him, he found himself more delighted than usual. That would be because this man was a Sembler of consummate skill that he'd met by chance, and for a variety of reasons, the man had taken particular interest in Æros. If one had a proper overhead knowledge of this particular star-touched Færie and his recent life events, it would make a lot of sense that somebody would want to be near to him, even if just to be a curious bystander watching on the sidelines. And, given his aforementioned skill in Semblance, this man, Chrysanthos, had, by happenstance and nosiness, bore witness to the anomalous events Æros had so recently stumbled into.
Chrysanthos' motivations aside, Æros had plenty of his own to entertain the elder Sunborn elf's esoteric interest. For one thing, he himself had the Craft of Semblance. However, his was newly acquired– as such, this interest of his was not in terms of equals, rather, he wanted to learn from the other man. And he had been; his Semblance has thus far improved by leaps and bounds since the two had met. Each time, his new friend would give him a new way to push his limits as well as insights about the Cardinal Rune itself. Truly, the relationship was an incredibly valuable one to Æros because of the other man's skills. That need not imply, however, that the other wasn't also good company.
On this day, the two met above ground in the Luxium. It had been seven days since the Sceptre of Aværys was made manifest and hung up in the sky, eliminating the night entirely from the realm. Æros regarded this as remarkably odd, as did his companion. For as much as the both of them did revere Aværys, what was day without night? The sun without the moon? The official explanation given was that the Sceptre had been crafted as a harbinger of the Solar Sovereign's upcoming jubilee, but even so, it was so very disorienting. While beautiful, it threw off the very balance on which their nation had been founded. Neither of them dared complain, really, at least not in private company as such a thing would be very ill-received.
It was evening, but due to the artificial second sun, the setting of the first did not allow for the day's light to wane. Æros and Chrysanthos sat across from each other on the rooftop of a bar, gazing up at the horizon before them. The sky looked altogether eldritch. Beyond the Sceptre of Aværys' concentrated brilliance, one could see the darkness of what should be night, yet even that looked strange. The sands were gilded, the sky was aglow with contrasting golds, reds, and deep blues. While beautiful and a truly majestic way to honor the Solar Sovereign, something about this felt grim, somehow foreboding, yet he knew not why.
Perhaps these ill feelings were brought on due to the strange smog that had cursed the realm for a few days at the start of the season. Perhaps they had something to do with the fact that Æros had encountered mist-cursed beasts himself and barely lived through the experience. What was happening? Was this somehow related to the aforementioned anomalies? Or was it altogether something new?
"I do wonder, Æros…" Chrysanthos started, bronze eyes shifting from the strange skyline to his starlit companion. "How does a man, somebody who is the very picture of the night sky, feel about…all of this?" He asked the question with one of his arms making a sweeping gesture towards the Scept of Aværys. "I've not seen the night for a week; I must say, looking upon you is quite refreshing," he followed up with a flirtatious sort of giggle.
Æros shifted his gaze towards the other, gilded eyes drifting languidly towards the other elf as he sipped his wine. "It's odd, surely, but to be entirely honest, the largest personal impact is that I've become even more of a novelty, though mostly in manners of jest– much like your comment," he teased. "I do feel like there's more to it than simply something grand for the Solar Sovereign. As much as we all have a penchant for resplendent frivolity, the sheer volume of æther required is near to blinding in its brilliance…" After pausing for a moment, he continued, "...it is rather enchanting, though, isn't it? I just wish I was a man of more importance; as curious as I am, all of the unknowns are a bit vexing." The half-blood sounded torn; on the one hand, he adored that his nation even had the magical grandeur to craft such a thing. On the other, he desperately wanted to understand its purpose, to be allowed in on what arcane knowledge prompted its creation.
If Æros tried to use Semblance on the thing, even the slightest touch of his æther in its direction was painful in its brightness. He wished he could withstand looking at it, to perhaps see the echoes of its creation, and yet…he couldn't. The oddities of the night sky beyond it interested him, too, but he could not see past the artificial star's ætheric illumination to get a useful read on anything. Perhaps that was also intentional? Who could say…
Canting his head in consideration of what Æros had said, the bronze-eyed elf was silent for a moment. "There might be. Unfortunately, though, if that is the case, there is nought we can do but wait and see," and while he shrugged somewhat dismissively after saying this, it was clear that his own curiosity tugged at him. He sighed, "...having lived as long as I have, you do get used to not knowing. Unless you'd somehow be of use, those above us would prefer we exist in our blissful ignorance." And while, at times, Chrysanthos had been privy to some sensitive knowledge in the past, he was not considered to be 'of use' in this case.
"And sometimes, knowledge can be a burden– as much as it can be painful to admit. Perhaps we're better off not knowing?" The elf chuckled, far more patient than Æros in this regard.
In response, the Færie rolled his eyes. "Maybe. I don't know…I'd brook the risk, the burden, whatever else, in pursuit of arcane knowledge. My desire to unravel the mysteries of the arcane is endless, insatiable; a bit of a nuisance, really, but it's just…so very difficult to tone down."
"Is that why I interest you?" Chrysanthos laughed, his tone playful. "My arcane prowess? Ah, and I had hoped I were more endearing than that," his words rang with feigned disappointment.
"Oh, I won't pretend I'm not drawn to men of magical might, but I'm not that shallow." Æros' response was given in an equally theatrical sort of tone, though his sentiment was true. There was no point, after all, in trying to lie to the superior Sembler. It was comforting in a way, too, that Chrysanthos did not attempt to hide his own Aura when they spoke.
"I suppose I have to admire your dreams of grandeur, though, Æros– I find myself quite content taking life as it comes, easy as such a thing is given my station. But because of that, I'll offer you whatever help I can with magic, because maybe, if you succeed with whatever lofty goals you have, I can benefit in some way by proxy," he said with a wink.
"Maybe you will!" Æros said with a coy smile. "Or maybe I'll fly too close to the sun and fall unceremoniously, a waste of potential. Fate aside…I don't think I could be happy accepting ignorance, so try I will."
That being the case, it was always an extremely welcome distraction whenever friends, colleagues, and the like would call upon him to request his attention. Further, when one of his newer acquaintances would call after him, he found himself more delighted than usual. That would be because this man was a Sembler of consummate skill that he'd met by chance, and for a variety of reasons, the man had taken particular interest in Æros. If one had a proper overhead knowledge of this particular star-touched Færie and his recent life events, it would make a lot of sense that somebody would want to be near to him, even if just to be a curious bystander watching on the sidelines. And, given his aforementioned skill in Semblance, this man, Chrysanthos, had, by happenstance and nosiness, bore witness to the anomalous events Æros had so recently stumbled into.
Chrysanthos' motivations aside, Æros had plenty of his own to entertain the elder Sunborn elf's esoteric interest. For one thing, he himself had the Craft of Semblance. However, his was newly acquired– as such, this interest of his was not in terms of equals, rather, he wanted to learn from the other man. And he had been; his Semblance has thus far improved by leaps and bounds since the two had met. Each time, his new friend would give him a new way to push his limits as well as insights about the Cardinal Rune itself. Truly, the relationship was an incredibly valuable one to Æros because of the other man's skills. That need not imply, however, that the other wasn't also good company.
On this day, the two met above ground in the Luxium. It had been seven days since the Sceptre of Aværys was made manifest and hung up in the sky, eliminating the night entirely from the realm. Æros regarded this as remarkably odd, as did his companion. For as much as the both of them did revere Aværys, what was day without night? The sun without the moon? The official explanation given was that the Sceptre had been crafted as a harbinger of the Solar Sovereign's upcoming jubilee, but even so, it was so very disorienting. While beautiful, it threw off the very balance on which their nation had been founded. Neither of them dared complain, really, at least not in private company as such a thing would be very ill-received.
It was evening, but due to the artificial second sun, the setting of the first did not allow for the day's light to wane. Æros and Chrysanthos sat across from each other on the rooftop of a bar, gazing up at the horizon before them. The sky looked altogether eldritch. Beyond the Sceptre of Aværys' concentrated brilliance, one could see the darkness of what should be night, yet even that looked strange. The sands were gilded, the sky was aglow with contrasting golds, reds, and deep blues. While beautiful and a truly majestic way to honor the Solar Sovereign, something about this felt grim, somehow foreboding, yet he knew not why.
Perhaps these ill feelings were brought on due to the strange smog that had cursed the realm for a few days at the start of the season. Perhaps they had something to do with the fact that Æros had encountered mist-cursed beasts himself and barely lived through the experience. What was happening? Was this somehow related to the aforementioned anomalies? Or was it altogether something new?
"I do wonder, Æros…" Chrysanthos started, bronze eyes shifting from the strange skyline to his starlit companion. "How does a man, somebody who is the very picture of the night sky, feel about…all of this?" He asked the question with one of his arms making a sweeping gesture towards the Scept of Aværys. "I've not seen the night for a week; I must say, looking upon you is quite refreshing," he followed up with a flirtatious sort of giggle.
Æros shifted his gaze towards the other, gilded eyes drifting languidly towards the other elf as he sipped his wine. "It's odd, surely, but to be entirely honest, the largest personal impact is that I've become even more of a novelty, though mostly in manners of jest– much like your comment," he teased. "I do feel like there's more to it than simply something grand for the Solar Sovereign. As much as we all have a penchant for resplendent frivolity, the sheer volume of æther required is near to blinding in its brilliance…" After pausing for a moment, he continued, "...it is rather enchanting, though, isn't it? I just wish I was a man of more importance; as curious as I am, all of the unknowns are a bit vexing." The half-blood sounded torn; on the one hand, he adored that his nation even had the magical grandeur to craft such a thing. On the other, he desperately wanted to understand its purpose, to be allowed in on what arcane knowledge prompted its creation.
If Æros tried to use Semblance on the thing, even the slightest touch of his æther in its direction was painful in its brightness. He wished he could withstand looking at it, to perhaps see the echoes of its creation, and yet…he couldn't. The oddities of the night sky beyond it interested him, too, but he could not see past the artificial star's ætheric illumination to get a useful read on anything. Perhaps that was also intentional? Who could say…
Canting his head in consideration of what Æros had said, the bronze-eyed elf was silent for a moment. "There might be. Unfortunately, though, if that is the case, there is nought we can do but wait and see," and while he shrugged somewhat dismissively after saying this, it was clear that his own curiosity tugged at him. He sighed, "...having lived as long as I have, you do get used to not knowing. Unless you'd somehow be of use, those above us would prefer we exist in our blissful ignorance." And while, at times, Chrysanthos had been privy to some sensitive knowledge in the past, he was not considered to be 'of use' in this case.
"And sometimes, knowledge can be a burden– as much as it can be painful to admit. Perhaps we're better off not knowing?" The elf chuckled, far more patient than Æros in this regard.
In response, the Færie rolled his eyes. "Maybe. I don't know…I'd brook the risk, the burden, whatever else, in pursuit of arcane knowledge. My desire to unravel the mysteries of the arcane is endless, insatiable; a bit of a nuisance, really, but it's just…so very difficult to tone down."
"Is that why I interest you?" Chrysanthos laughed, his tone playful. "My arcane prowess? Ah, and I had hoped I were more endearing than that," his words rang with feigned disappointment.
"Oh, I won't pretend I'm not drawn to men of magical might, but I'm not that shallow." Æros' response was given in an equally theatrical sort of tone, though his sentiment was true. There was no point, after all, in trying to lie to the superior Sembler. It was comforting in a way, too, that Chrysanthos did not attempt to hide his own Aura when they spoke.
"I suppose I have to admire your dreams of grandeur, though, Æros– I find myself quite content taking life as it comes, easy as such a thing is given my station. But because of that, I'll offer you whatever help I can with magic, because maybe, if you succeed with whatever lofty goals you have, I can benefit in some way by proxy," he said with a wink.
"Maybe you will!" Æros said with a coy smile. "Or maybe I'll fly too close to the sun and fall unceremoniously, a waste of potential. Fate aside…I don't think I could be happy accepting ignorance, so try I will."
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'Thoughts'
"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
