Hunting for Answers [Closed]

[Hilana Chenzira]

45 Frost, Year 122

[Closed - Finn, Khyan]

Having satisfied herself with days and evenings of pouring over maps, researching and memorizing the land, interposing where the sages who had answered Prince Phocion’s summons had believed Melindranovion had gone down with the maps of the present day lands of the Kingdom of Solunarium and the Ecithian Commonwealth, it was showtime. Hilana loaded the packs - she didn’t think they would need quite as much as she had packed for the trip to Vectria in Ash, but she loaded them up nonetheless. Waterskins were filled, but she had less concern about needing multiples - she could refill them herself now with Elementalism, having progressed enough to be able to manifest the water to keep her companions well-hydrated. It was unlikely she would need to: the wyvern moved far faster than her camel, and Finn could in the absolute worst case scenario, port them all back. Beyond that, there was enough water in the Vasta and in the other bodies of water nearby.

Food and snacks were a must. She went with prepared wraps of chicken, rice, lettuce, tomatoes, onion, and tzatziki sauce on pitas. Dates were necessary, as were a couple different chunks of cheese, and Hilana threw in some tiropitakia, the little hand pies stuffed with cheese. Khyan had said before that cheese was a favourite of his, and therefore, Hilana brought along a couple varieties and preparations. She considered chips and dip, and decided that that wasn’t necessary for the time being, but she did figure to surprise Finn with some greenhouse grown blackberries to give him a taste of home. A couple bottles of flavoured meads went into the bag as well - she knew that if Dominus Æros was busy, Khyan was definitely going to need libation in order to keep his perky ass agreeable.

In her rucksack went the things she needed above all. The Mask of Midnight’s Mother had been retrieved from its hiding place within the bushmaster terrarium, her Volumens Errantis, and her other maps - Asher’s cloth map of the western border, and her own that she had painstakingly drawn and copied out from those provided by the Sentinels; her maps of Ecith and Drathera among them. Her notebook regarding her information and clues was also tucked into her rucksack. Charged lodestones went into a pouch on her belt. Tiaz, however, was not joining this voyage. Nor would Fiya. Both of her pythons were in their terrariums, and they would stay there until Hilana got back. Other routine supplies were packed - tools and bags for plant harvesting and soil samples, a machete, and numerous potions and restoratives. Blood purifiers, restoratives, cleaning supplies, and her medical kit. Beyond that, she added a number of poisons. Better safe than sorry. She believed in the capability of the Mask, and therefore the poisons were like as not to be unnecessary... but better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them.

She had sacrificed a sandcock the night before to Domina Varvara, that she would look on and keep an eye out for them, and another one that morning to Deus Avaerys so that he could shine his light upon the path. It never hurt to ask the Founders for their favour, after all. Sacrifices were always a good start before a journey, and they certainly couldn’t hurt. Word had been sent a few days ago to Finn and to Dominus Æros and Khyan regarding the time when she had the date confirmed to meet at the Wyvern Eyrie in the Luxium. Hilana had made her way there, her rucksack on her back and the additional packs ready to be loaded on the wyvern once the rest of the party got there. Her hair was bound in its braids, and her green-hued skirts meant to blend in with the environment where they were going. All in all, she was eager to set out, and hopefully she could get further clues on which way Israxa had gone so that she could get on and work the trail that had been cold for thousands upon thousands of years.

[Pharaoh]

► Show Spoiler

Finn was accompanied by a small Phædryn entourage en route from the Palatium Umbrarum to the Luxian wyvern eyrie that sat at the foot of Mount Sorokyn. Directly to his right strode the Princeps Draconum, and the couple was flanked by two uniformed sentinels, Vigilia Valæra and Vigil Phocion.

“Please don’t take any unnecessary risks…” Arvælyn urged, “...your chivalrous streak is very charming when applied to me, but in mine absence it just invites danger.” Up until today, the Draconic Elf had been (perhaps surprisingly) casual about Finn’s impending adventure. Perhaps it was that he was so busy preparing for the transition of power- Even tonight he was to play host to the first of those senators who pledged fealty to his house. He’d certainly whinged about spending a protracted period without Finn, but he hadn’t seemed worried for his safety until he woke that morning.

“Your amatus is a capable mage even by Solunarian standards.” Phocion offered, “He should fare fine in that part of Ecith…”

“To say nothing of the Vastiana’s divine bequeathment from the Bride of Bridles, which should keep your party well concealed.” Valæra added, taking note of the same Vastiana peeling off from the road and onto the open sands that led to the foreground of the eyrie.

“Herald.” Valæra inclined her head to Hilana. Phocion pursed his lips, set his jaw and duplicated the gesture albeit without uttering that honorific. Instead, muttering:

“Miss Chenzira.”

“Good morrow, Hilana.” Arvælyn said without releasing his grip on Finn’s arm.

The wind sweeping off the open desert to the East of the eyrie beat hard as the intrepid adventurers approached the eyrie. The robes of the wyvern handlers whipped about their bodies as they led a large, bronze-scaled specimen toward a pair of uniformed Silver Sentinels flanking a tall elf with platinum hair in platinum ceremonial armour of classical Solunarian make. At first glance from the rear he might have been mistaken for Prince Arkænyn, but closer inspection would reveal broader shoulders. When he turned to cast his violet gaze toward the approaching party, Finn would recognise the face as one he'd seen leaving the council chambers of the Palatium Umbrarum when he was heading in to properly meet with the Crownwyrm.

"Your Hallowed Highness.”
"Your Hallowed Highness.” Valæra and Phocion said in unison, bowing low to the taller man.

“Nephew.” Kairyndralok inclined his head to Arvælyn, “Your Serene Highnesses.” He nodded to the Phædryns. “And you must be the questing party.” His violet eyes regarded Finn first, then Hilana. “Was there not to be another?”

Behind him, the wyvern was gaping at Kairyndralok- its scarcely readable expression seeming to display something between a still nervousness and raw reverence.

The Elven Seeming of Kairyndralok Zalkyrialis

[Finn]

Finn was ready. The entourage seemed unnecessary, but then perhaps it was given the provenance of Hilana's quest. He was dressed in his travel blacks, a sleek back slung over one shoulder and an armored lute case over the other. The bard had his own quest to fulfill and he was quietly dovetailing it to the Vastiana's jihad. He found himself more comfortable in the blacks when in such esteemed presences—his golden amatus aside—as all he need do was pull the veil across his face and he could disappear into the role of Subvigil.

He gave Arvælyn a lingering touch to the hand that held him, smiling assurance at him.

"She knows the desert better than I do," he said, putting trust in his first teacher of the ways of the Expanse. "She also knows I am better equipped for other parts of this voyage. Between her and the slave, they will follow orders to keep them safe, and then I won't have to put myself in undue harm's way." He winked. "In any case, once everything is complete, I can open us a gate directly to Solunarium. I know the Ways now. And remember: Deus Aværys Himself blesses me."

"Salve, Hilana," he said with a quirk to his lips at the sobriety of the occasion.

Then he turned his face toward the hot breeze from the wyvern's wings and he smiled, reaching out with his magical charm to soothe it. He would have rather saddled and harnessed the beast himself, but there was an audience. When elf-seeming dragon approached, he bowed as did the others.

"Your Hallowed Highness." His back was ramrod straight as he was inspected. In Sentinel mode, he replied to the question with alacrity: "We are meant to have a servus as well. A Master Sembler." Hilana had told him about Khyan, and he wasn't certain how to feel about that. The man had been welcoming when Finn first arrived, had introduced him to the ways their artists melded magic into their craft, and then he had disappeared, his family felled by Solunarian justice. He hadn't even seen him since. This would be a strange reunion, but they would have plenty of time to speak over the course of their journey.

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan sauntered up just in time to hear a familiar peregrinus refer to a servus, which was surely him. Finn would feel a flicker of umbrage in his Symphony, as the balance of their stations had shifted drastically since their prior encounter. But that particular vexation was short-lived and promptly replaced by a sudden anxiety about being the last to arrive.

He wasn't late, he was right on time. It was everyone else who was early. He might have been less liberal with his time were he aware of the lofty figures who'd apparently assembled to see them off. Hilana had truly come up in the world if she was leading a mission with a sendoff attended by two Sol'Aværys princes, the new heir to the Umbrium and a stunning Platinum Elf who- Oop! No, Finn just referred to him by a draconic honorific.

As much as he wished to announce himself present in an exclamatory tone, he would not speak without being spoken to in such company. He approached Hilana and bowed, before lowering himself to full genuflection before the others who could not have outranked him by a greater margin without having created the very planet.

He wore riding gear rather than the Sælyan livery that served as his daily garb, and carried supplies assembled from a list he'd requested of Hilana in preparation for this journey. He'd never gone on this sort of adventure before and didn't expect even the amenities accorded a Solunarian servus to be available in whatever Orkish climes they found themselves exploring.

Phocion leaned over to whisper something into one of Arvælyn's pointed ears, after which the winged prince said:

"You may rise and speak."

"Your Exalted Highness, Your Hallowed Highness, Your Serene Highnesses et Domini!" He rattled off quickly, before rising. "I am here to serve on loan from Gens Sælyan, and honoured to stand before ye mighty princes of the realm." His eyes, which naturally averred the gazes of the sundry princes, rose to regard the bronze wyvern that seemed to have eyes for none by the platinum in their midst.

[Hilana Chenzira]

When she was coming up to the other party and was addressed by Vigilia Valaera, Hilana lowered the two well-stuffed extra packs that she was hauling to the ground and bowed to the Royal trio and Finn. She might not have done so to her student in private, but public was a different situation entirely. “Good morrow, Your Exalted Highness, Your Serene Highnesses, and Dominus,” she returned the greeting, picking up the bags again, each of them being looped over her shoulders as they continued on towards the Eyrie.

Her eyes brightened to see the Wyvern. Oohhh… that was a beauty. Though she did wonder who they were coming up on, only for them to use a draconic honorific. “Your Hallowed Highness,” Hilana echoed, lowering her packs and bowing low, sweeping her skirts out before she straightened and thought quickly. The Mesmers amongst them would be able to detect some alarm in her Symphony… because the girl hadn’t realized one of the dragons would be there, and as such, she hadn’t packed anything for tribute. Admittedly, the Crownwyrm had told her to toss the fire opals into the red river in the Thalamum Draconum when they had ventured down there to deliver the Founders’ missive and Zalkyriax’s heir, but she had nothing on her person beyond perhaps her lodestones, and even then… they weren’t the work of a Master. They would do for what she needed them to do, but as an offering to a dragon? She was thinking quickly. Finn answered regarding Khyan, and when she turned her head, there he was.

She smiled at her friend, inclining her head to him in a nod of both greeting and acknowledgment when he bowed to her. She was glad he had come; otherwise they would have needed to make a side trip to Tertium so Hilana could drag her Great-Aunt out with them. While Eliana would have come to do the task - and likely enjoy eying Finn while she was at it - she was also a fair bit older. A longer trip by wyvern, especially while Hilana was hunting by maps and would hopefully get their spot right the first time... it wouldn’t be the easiest trip her Elder would have made. While the nomadic legacy ran in her veins, it had still been a long time since she’d gone much further than her home and Tertium proper. She wasn’t one that needed to travel. Besides, she kind of wanted to get Khyan outside of the City and see if he did have any of that Wildness in him that she thought he had had when she had first met him. This was as good a way as any to get started.

“This is all of us now. The party is complete. Thank you for coming,” the Vastiana told those assembled. “I am grateful for the guidance and support, and for those that are making the journey with me.” The beautiful bronze wyvern, easily one of the largest, if not the largest she’d ever seen up close, seemed quite taken with His Hallowed Highness Kairyndralok. “May I ask the wyvern’s name?” Hilana inquired as she considered offering the Platinum Elf some tiropitakia. She had a whole tin of them in her bag for her friends, but perhaps he’d like some...

[Pharaoh]

Kairyndralok, like his sovereign sibling, had an air of austerity and aloofness about him. His expression remained impassive as obeisance was offered, and he largely stood stock still. It was only his eyes that moved as they darted to whomever was speaking, whilst his head faced straight forward. The final member of the party arrived and its leader espoused as much along with gratitude before posing a question.

"You may." The dragon replied, shifting his body to regard the lesser draconid. "He is called Kherdroth." The wyvern lifted his great head and slit pupiled eyes widened attentively in answer to the sound of his own name.

"Am I to understand the servus is your most seasoned rider?" Kairyndralok inquired, looking to Khyan with a cool, violet gaze. Upon confirmation, he would gesture to Khyan before approaching Kherdroth, who lowered his head so that the Platinum figure could whispered something into one of the ears set below a set of horns. The wyvern looked to Khyan with eyes that softened in what the Semblers and Mesmers amongst them would recognise as submission and deference.

With that done, Kairyndralok would incline his head to his nephew, before turning to walk toward the eyrie set against the Mount.

"Travel well and return victorious, adventurers." He said loudly enough that he needn't glance over his shoulder to be heard. When he was some distance away, he would shed his Elven Seeming and launch into the skies, soaring upward and then making a sharp, downward arc into the mouth of Sorokyn.

Arvælyn arched a brow.

"When they show up they really show up, don't they?" He shook his head, "Anyway, be careful, my love." He hugged and kissed Finn. "And Hilana?" Eyes like pits of fire turned to the Vastiana as he emphasised, "Bring him home in one piece. And perhaps the extra urging of his Symphony emphasised the import of this demand.

"Safe journeys." Phocion nodded. Valæra, feeling that enough salutary sentiments had been offered, merely tipped her head to them and started back toward the city proper. Phocion joined, but paused to glance over his shoulder at Arvælyn.

"Will you be returning with us?"

"I shall see them off, I think."

"Very well, Exalted Highness." And with that, Phocion expedited his pace to catch up with his sister's place in the sands, as the servus went forth to mount the wyvern.

[Finn]

Finn opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it. It was entirely possible that Khyan had more experience with wyverns than he did, though he had paid diligent attention to the care and feeding of them so he could answer Hilana's questions, and he rather enjoyed melding his symphony with theirs in order to fly. It was an entirely different experience than riding an airship. In any case, he was happy to let Khyan prove his worth, especially given that brief jangle of discord he had heard in his music. There would be time to talk later.

He saluted the Sentinels after the dragon had flown, and smiled at Arvælyn, who chose to linger. The bard closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around his lover, decorum be damned.

"What do I get if I obey, Your Exalted Highness?" he asked coyly. But he laughed and kissed him long and deep, something to think on while Finn was gone from their bed. "You could get on the wyvern and come away with us, you know. Nobody's watching now." It was likely that someone of import was watching, though. The wyvern-handlers might not run with their tongues wagging, but it seemed there were always eyes upon them.

"I'll be back as soon as we complete our quests. Halfway across the Atraxian Expanse in one far stride. Anyway," he kissed Arvælyn's hand, "you and your kin are Atraxia, so we won't truly be parted."

Of course, he could have lingered, but the sooner he left, the sooner he would return. But he waited for Arvælyn to release him, to give him a nudge, or otherwise give him leave to go. They all had their duties now, whether as princes or Silver Sentinels or chosen of the Gods of Solunarium.

Whenever he was released, he would go to acquaint himself once more with Kherdroth, who was large enough to carry several people. But what seating arrangement would leave Arvælyn the least irritated?

[Khyan Nykara]

With most of the paragons having parted from the party, Khyan let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he hadn't been excited to look upon figures so hallowed, exalted and serene, but it was also quite terrifying. He'd stood before the top tier of their social hierarchy in the past, but never when he was at the absolute bottom of the pyramid. Still, the loftiest of their number remained and canoodled with the Kalzasern he'd met during the Miststorm. So, this was the jealous lover...

He arched a brow, and considered his current company and how they might not only accelerate his liberation but also the redemption and reinstatement of his family as members of the senatorial class. He would have to be on his best behaviour with Finn. That would be far easier to achieve since it seemed the pale human had learned Vastian, so he needn't struggle to charm him via his broken Common. That had been fine for an evening, but would surely grow grating on a protracted journey.

Khyan let the two pretty boys have their parting exchange, as he headed over to inspect Kherdroth's Aura. He could tell, at a glance, that this was not a wyvern typically graced with an easy temperament. Kherdroth, like many of the larger wyverns, was a more difficult mount... more a creature of the wild. At least typically, but he could also tell that the wyvern was deferential to whatever instructions the dragon had given. The details of which Khyan, for all his mastery, could not dredge up.

"Inclina.He instructed softly, and the wyvern lowered itself and flattened its form to the ground low enough that Khyan could grab ahold of the chains hanging from its saddle to pull himself aloft. Now mounted, he saw about getting his pack into one of the storage compartments attached to the saddle, plying his Semblance on the creature all the while.

The wyvern was clever and well-trained, even if he bore a defiant streak as biting as the acid in his venom glands. And, thanks to His Hallowed Highness, Kherdroth's attitude toward them remained neutral, which was as good as he could hope for under the circumstances.

"We are ready when you are, Domini..."

[Hilana Chenzira]

“Gratias, Your Hallowed Highness,” Hilana bowed her head and shoulders when he indulged her with an answer. Kherdroth, he had said, so Kherdroth it was. She bowed again once he left, and kicked herself for not offering the tribute. But the Vastiana had no time to ruminate on it, because it seemed like all too soon, she had Prince Arvaelyn’s undivided attention.

Hilana had been born in one of the rare storms that occasioned to break across the sands, and her maternal family told her that thunder and lightning were a part of her soul. She knew the sound of thunder intimately, and when Arvaelyn fixed that fiery gaze on her and spoke his warning, she heard that demand in thunder. Perhaps it was his use of Mesmer and Masquerade to add the effect; she was no Sembler nor Mesmer to know, and she (perhaps stupidly) had yet to put the Mask on to afford her some smidgen of protection from it. But all the same… she heard it loud and clear. She just bowed her head and shoulders to him. “Yes, Your Exalted Highness.” She’d not had the chance to chat with him since the day of her birthday, and so much had changed since then that it was a tricky line for her with him. Especially in front of Khyan, even if she did still consider Arvaelyn to be a good friend. She opened the tin in one of the packs, then, and handed the winged Royal a rather stuffed-looking triangular cheese hand pie. “Did you like the marshmallows?” She wanted to know as she bowed to his elder siblings in their Sentinel blacks, and would head towards Kherdroth once she had an answer.

“Salve, Kherdroth,” she greeted the wyvern with a small bow, and once the others got their packs positioned, Hilana stashed the two largest that held the bulk of their supplies, working them into the compartments. It was interesting how the saddles differed between riders and companies, and some day she would look into getting her own. But right now, she was busy. She had enough to do with this exciting and gargantuan task set before her, the camel derby, her snakes, and her lessons in multiple subjects. Not to mention finding a part time job where she could get more training in Alchemy. It made more sense for now to just continue to learn and pay for lessons with Valerian, simply because she wasn’t ready to give a wyvern the attention she felt it deserved.

Hilana shifted her rucksack to one shoulder and retrieved the Mask of Midnight’s Mother from its protective cloth, holding it up to her face. It was there for the briefest of moments before vanishing, and she adjusted her pack back over her other shoulder, the straps securing it shut tight once more. She would let Finn take the middle spot, inasmuch as she might have enjoyed being the filling of a Khyan and Finn sandwich, gathering her skirts and securing herself. She would rather not annoy the Mesminstrel with her rucksack there, especially when she needed the Volumens. ”Ready,” the Vastiana assured Khyan. Only once they were aloft would she speak the words “Integumentum obscurum!” to conceal Finn, Khyan, and Kherdroth as well. She wasn’t so petty as to make it difficult for the winged princeps draconum to see them off.

[Finn]

Finn didn't bother to hide the painful tremolo in his symphony as he parted—albeit temporarily—from his princely lover. Once he had secured his rucksack and his precious lute case to the wyvern's saddle, he took the middle seat per Hilana's request. Finn climbed easily into the saddle. He was stronger than he was agile, but he had been training with the wyverns for some time now, his Rune of Mesmer making him an excellent candidate according to his superiors in the Silver Sentinels. He was careful not to put his hands on Khyan's waist, though he likely would once they were out of Arvælyn's sight; it would be utilitiarian, but he didn't want to cause his amatus undue stress. He had the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders now.

"Salve, Khyan," he said carefully. "No need for titles now. Nor in private. You're still the first friend I made in Solunarium, though I haven't seen you since. We have a lot to catch up on. Thankfully, we will have hours of camping to while away."

Finn offered Hilana a hand up. He saw to his own bindings and tried to double-check theirs without letting on that he was. He didn't want to see anyone falling off the wyvern. He could probably manage to save them with some high-stress Traversion, but he didn't want to have to do so. When Hilana muttered something, something happened.

"What the fuck...?!"

He twisted around to see what Hilana was on about, discombobulated by whatever it was she was doing back there. Khyan probably knew, being a master sembler, but Finn didn't want to delve into her symphony in order to read her thoughts just because she had startled him.