Multifaceted II [Closed]

Continuation of Multifaceted.

Travelers beware, the unprepared are quickly lost to these towering rocky sentinels of the North.

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Hilana Chenzira
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60 Glade, Year 123

[Closed - Æros, Rickter]
[Part I]

When the nameless man spoke in a tongue Hilana didn’t understand, the girl patiently waited for him to digest the situation, gently rubbing the back of the hand that she held now that he was awake and she didn’t need to keep applying pressure to his knee. Surely he was able to communicate in a tongue that they had familiar, otherwise she would likely need to ask her father. As frustrating as her male parent was, he was good with languages. He might know. But for the time being, Hilana did her best to just keep herself calm and relaxed, much like she would when approaching any wild animal - she didn’t want to startle a god; that couldn’t possibly end well for any of them if she did. The Stitchweaver had made it clear that if they departed this life for the next one without repaying the debt they owed to the Lord of the Frost, they would not be returning to the Sands. But since they owed him their lives… the Vastiana would see him taken care of. It was only right. The problem, however, was going to be what happened when they went home.

As he made to get up, Hilana rose up from where she had been kneeling beside him in order to help him up. Another woman, similar to the first thought certainly older, reached to him him up as well. Athalia couldn’t see the ghost, but she could feel his closeness, so she knew the spirit was nearby.

Hilana watched him as he straightened, looking up at the Lord of Frost. His pain was clear on his face and in his voice. It was deep-seated, not physical, and clearly he was confused and heartbroken. But when he asked her who he was, the Mistlord’s words were clear. His identity. And because he didn’t know that… she wondered if he had lost all memories of his pack. “You do not remember your name?” She asked him, her big brown eyes looking up to meet blue. She was emphatic, and she felt for him. Of all things, she knew who she was. She knew what she could do and couldn’t do, she knew who her family was, what lines she was descended from, who her kin were. She knew friend from foe, and those connections made her who she was. Maybe not completely, but they formed the basis for Hilana.

"My name is Hilana, and this is Athalia," she introduced him to her older sister that she had pulled from the Void, who gave the tall, blue-eyed man a small bow. She still could hardly believe that she was flesh and blood and here, and there were going to be endless complications when she took them back to Tertium. "There is a ghost here with us, but you need not be alarmed. His name is Æros, and he is a friend," she smiled at him. The way the wolves had looked at him and howled for the Lord of Frost so mournfully gave Hilana an idea. "May we call you Lykos?"


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Rickter
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Multifaceted II
60th of Glade, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

It was strange. It was one thing for him to be forgetful and maybe, just maybe, his memory would be a haze or distant recollection. But the more he dwelled on it the more apparent it became, he had literally nothing to recall at this point in time. No singular memory of the life he led up to now, which all the more perplexed him if he tried considering his age. He certainly was no babe or child, just a grown man with no sense of self nor identity. His heart still weighted for reasons unknown, and his right arm rather tender on the deltoid and forearm, he self-consciously pressed his left hand across the surface of his sternum.

What is this pain... deep inside my chest? The girl who awoke him earlier inquired about the nature of his memory, gripping the reality that seemed to be steadily settling in for the nameless wolf. He steadily looked from the ground to her, his blue eyes soft when they shared a brief moment of direct line of sight, only before his own eyes fell back to the ground with that same troubled expression. "No..." No. He did not remember his own name. Nor did he have any recollection of himself.

How does one suddenly wake up like that? Having nothing? No name nor place to call home, nor a way to guide himself to people who might help? Luckily for him, it seemed the girl next to him was gentle, certainly kind enough to wake him from where he'd fallen. Had he hit his head on something by chance? Was he just an unlucky adventurer? Honestly, the nameless wolf doubted it.

The only thing he possessed was the clothing on his self, that being the leather trousers which were very warm against his legs; and then the fur-padded vestment which seemed to have a hole down the upper backside. Did that make him a hunter of some kind? He didn't see any tools he might've possessed either, if anything, the only thing he found on himself were the runes which glowed in different hues. Runes which thrummed gently across his skin, marking a significant amount of power that resonated deeper than his bones. The lady introduced herself and then her female companion, the one which followed her and displayed a sense of etiquette upon introduction.

The wolf could still smell something off about that one, though, not as off as the fragrance of death looming with the group. He didn't need any magic to sense the presence of the ghost lingering nearby, though, it certainly intrigued the wolf to actually meet such a thing. Still, the nameless wolf gently bowed his head toward the trio, his silence backed by the immensity of a thousand questions littered with confusion. And then, a name seemed to finally come up as a suggestion.

The inquiry led him to perk his head up a bit, if not still somberly, when he thought of the name that had been given. Lykos? Certainly no name he'd never heard before, but since he hadn't a name to throw out to begin with... perhaps it was better to just take on that name, see if it would fit him for the time being, or at least until he finally came to remember something about his past. "Lykos..." He gently repeated in his own quiet contemplation, before his gaze gradually returned to Hilana with a soft nod to follow. That was when it hit him hard, and the sound of his gut made it apparent to everyone present.

Lykos... was starving. He felt as though he could eat for days and still feel hungry, yet another piece of the puzzle he found from his awakening. Clearly, something had happened within the base of the massive ice structure they had left, and while the sun shone brightly in the sky now, there still hung a heavy sorrow within the air above. "Do you... think you can help me find home?... I'm... rather lost." He admitted reluctantly with a hint of a flush in his cheeks, bashful of the fact he was starving and, technically, alone in this strange and unusual place.

Last edited by Rickter on Tue Mar 05, 2024 11:50 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 733
"Dialogue" Monologue
"Telion" "Hannah" "Lykos"
"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan" "Vastian"
Noble House
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Aeros
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- - -
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In the rush of the moment, as he rode fate’s rapids, there had been no time for Æros to really pause and feel his emotions. Everything just kept happening, all at once, and he had felt so powerless, and so he’d surrendered to those around him, just to keep going– but now, there was peace. There was stillness. There was solace…only the starlit ghost felt none of it.

Bringing his spectral hands before his face, Æros stared at them blankly; the devastation of all that had just happened slowly descended upon him. He could feel his panic rising and, though he no longer breathed, it still felt suffocating. Everything kept flashing before his eyes, repeating, again and again. Sailing here, touching the Monolith, the void entity wearing his lover’s face, the kiss of metal to his throat, the cold embrace of exsanguination. The awe of being in front of the divine only for that to swiftly break into despair at the gravity of it all. Khyan’s anger. The bargain with Shæoth, his subsequent destruction and rebirth, the journey through the void, the Sitchweaver. All of it. Over and over. And now he was here. Now he was linked to another, and a stranger, a god at that, lay drained before them.

Apoplexy underscored by bitter undercurrents of sorrow.
Waves of agony; echoes of his demise.
Remnants of wonderstruck reverence.
Every bit of the miasma that composed him was abuzz with emotion.

He was glad to have been given a second chance, but anything positive he felt was so quickly drowned; and he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t use his Mesmer; he lacked much of his control without that. Overwhelmed, he barely even heard Hilana speak at first, but the other’s voice, His confusion, caught the ghost’s attention. The stranger was awake…but it would appear Myshala was to be taken literally; this one was lost. He couldn’t even recall His own name nor anything else. What had He done?

The spectral Solunarian wasn’t entirely invisible; a keen eye would notice the ætherial glint of his presence lingering just a few feet behind Hilana. His essence was thin and he was weak; his features were difficult to discern, but he’d managed to give himself his silhouette, the soft glint of stars, of a face. The ghost looked past Hilana and down to the lost, starving man. He hoped he’d manifested enough of…something! to be heard.

“The Lord of Frost perseveres,” the ghost mocked the Stitchweaver’s tone, though his words were like knives, something akin to malice permeating the weak whisper that was his voice. “That’s who you are.” This time, his words lacked teeth, but they were heavy; he was unable to hide his pain.

“...and we are in your debt,” he lamented.

He didn’t understand how he could feel so many things at once; pity, empathy, sympathy, envy, curiosity…all of these things whirled ‘round in his head regarding the stranger and all of it mixed with the complex tumult of everything he felt towards his own situation.

“I am as lost as you are, though, and for the nonce, it appears we are in her hands,” he inclined his head towards Hilana; it was almost the start of a bow– that would’ve been bizarre in life…but he was clearly seething, so what meaning was there?
- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
word count: 678

Say goodnight, to the weakness that you hide behind
Leaving the lies, leaving the fear inside
Never once were you truly alive
So scream all you like, no one can hear you


Soul laid bare,
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Hilana Chenzira
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When the ghost of her late friend materialized and spoke, Hilana looked at him. She could tell he was deeply unstabilized, but perhaps this experience was to be expected. She didn’t know what he had undergone within the Void, she only knew of her own experience, of the blinding shields that had taken out her Void-self... and she didn’t know where they had come from. She was no practitioner of Negation, much to her father’s chagrin... but they would have been incredibly useful there... which was just another lesson. She had to wonder if that was part of what Lykos had done to save their lives and the world itself. She rather thought that it would make sense, too, especially given the glowing Runes of his. But as much as she wanted to Semble him and figure out just which ones he had... the only one for sure that she could recognize was Nyx, and she knew about it from Aoren.

But perhaps he had Negation? If he did, then there was a very good chance that he had been the one to shield her from the Void-creature that had been playing with her until she ran out of aether attempting to defeat the wards that had anchored in her very soul.

As her new ward’s stomach rumbled, that reminded Hilana that the cold was all around them. It didn’t seem to be bothering Lykos, it wouldn’t impact Æros, but she and Athalia were going to be feeling it. Athalia’s natural Arche of Fire was helpful, as it helped keep her warm in the coolness of the Mountains, and Hilana’s own present attunement was seeking to do the same. It wasn’t a blasting heat, but just enough to keep her from freezing and exposure. “We don’t know where your home is,” she told him, her big brown eyes searching Lykos’ blue ones. “We know that you are the Lord of Frost, and that you are Divine, the god of Winter. I would think that this is somewhere in Karnor, to the north, but we do not know if you live up here,” she paused, thinking. “But I know where our home is, and we will take you there. You need to eat, we all need to rest and recover. I have strong friends that may be able to help you further, so that we can understand and learn more about you, and you can learn about yourself too,” she smiled up at him. There was compassion there, at least, and no judgment.

“We will make a sacrifice to the Gods, and ask Their permission for you to be there. That way you will be safe and we will try to find a way to recover who you are. For now... we can make a pack of our own,” she reached for his hand to squeeze it, and Athalia’s. She would squeeze Æros’, but since he was a wisp at the moment... probably not ideal. “Where there is a will, there is a way.”



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The spectral entity lingering near Hilana chimed in, saying words that were somewhere on the fringes of familiarity to the wolf. Lord of Frost? Lykos hadn't the slightest idea as to what that statement meant, which only weighted the distant frown on his features when the thought about it. He was this Lord to be? And they were indebted to him? Why? None of this made sense to Lykos at this rate, and truthfully, it was beginning to grow a bit overwhelming for him to try and process.

Maybe because of the sheer exhaustion settling into his bones, even after having awoken from however long of a sleep he'd fallen into. Or maybe it hadn't even been that long at all? "...Sorry..." He gently remarked to Aeros, before Hilana's eyes came searching his for something. All she would find within them though was sadness, a longing for something that wasn't there, and the tendency to avoid direct eye contact if at all possible. The lady then admitted that she, rather they, had no idea where his home might be either.

A tragedy.

But she confirmed what the spectral horned man had said, he was of deific power and his Divinity tied him to Frost. Yet, Lykos had no idea what it meant to be this "God of Winter" she expressed. This led him to look into the palm of his hands questionably, uncertain how to feel about this as he grasped at the fundamental details. Lord of Frost. God of Winter. Should he have felt excited? Honored? Truthfully the only thing he felt was a sense of despair, only because this lineage to Divinity brought up more questions than answers.

And Karnor? The north? Was his home here somewhere? It would be difficult to tell since he had no idea where civilization dwelled, and even if he did manage to find such a place, there was no guarantee anyone there would be able to help him either. The sheer immensity of his situation felt daunting, and the fact he felt both tired and hungry did not help either. Already his weary bones felt ready to just give out beneath him, only, the girl Hilana informed him of her intentions after a thought. Home? With them? Just thinking about leaving this place already terrified him, which was also confusing since it was terrifying just waking up here also.

There was a distinct smell to the air though that Lykos liked, at least, his lungs seemed to appreciate the crisp cool quality about it. Strangely enough, he did not feel cold in the slightest, but could perceive it in the air around him nonetheless. Whether this remained in connection to his supposed Divinity, or was just simply his senses taking in the environment, well that remained another question he was unable to answer for the time being. But the idea that Hilana suggested, going somewhere else to rest and recuperate didn't seem all too bad. He could tell that both ladies seemed rather beat up if not certainly weary in their own right. And Aeros? He was a ghost but perhaps that had not always been the case.

Whatever happened in there, in that round room, must've been severe if they suffered more than he did. And yet Hilana wanted to help him either way, not because of this supposed debt they owed him, but from a genuine standing point of kindness. Her heart was pure, that much he could ascertain. And while the thought of petitioning other deific powers for permission to stay intimidated the wolf, there was something about what Hilana said that tugged at Lykos' broken heart. A pack... Did he have such a thing prior? Maybe that was why he felt such longing inside his chest, such a gaping hole that generated a constant ache deep inside.

"O... Okay..." He reluctantly agreed with a bit more of a hopeful look in his eyes. "...I'll go with you then." Hilana's hands were warm and kind just like she was, bringing an unusual sense of comfort to the wolf as he slightly lifted his gaze a little. His eyes still remained ever distant or lost in thought, but he started to finally appear more focused on the world and those few around him. "...What's your home like?" He then inquired out of curiosity, hopeful that he would not stand out as the "Lord of Frost" while there. Truthfully, whatever higher powers needed to grant him permission still scared him, but, Lykos had no other choice but to put his faith in the hands of Hilana and her companions.

Last edited by Rickter on Tue Mar 05, 2024 11:52 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 792
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"Telion" "Hannah" "Lykos"
"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan" "Vastian"
Noble House
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Aeros
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Hilana was one of the kindest people Æros had ever met. She was a woman with great empathy and a seemingly infinite yearning to both strive towards her own ideals and simultaneously help bring up those close to her as much as she could– and this was, in this case, a boon of infinite value; completely priceless. Æros was a creature now composed nearly entirely of anguish; if he stood any chance to work through this state, under these circumstances, he will need that warmth. It was worth wondering if that was taken into account when Shæoth bound him to her– perhaps it was a not so subtle way of relaying to him that he needed her.

In the face of tragedy, she was choosing to show warmth, compassion and understanding above anything else– and that caused Æros to pause, to step back; with this chance he’d been given, he ought to follow her lead, no? This, however, would be a goal to strive for, as he could no longer simply erase or even ease his own emotions with a flex of æther. And yet, despite how fresh and overwhelming everything was, he was determined to try and reign in those emotions; there was, truly, no need to spread bile, to take anything out on anyone else– his tragedy had two sources: himself and the entity that’d tricked him.

Æros shook his head at the stranger when He apologized. “No need. I know You’ve no memory– but be certain, there’s nothing You need to apologize for; my ire is not at You.” At this point, his voice was still weighted, but more tired than much else.

The ghost listened on in silence as Hilana spoke, and then when the one Hilana had dubbed ‘Lykos’ inquired about what their home was like, Æros couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “We are of Solunarium; we live in the Atraxian sands, a desert. Not ideal when one is more inclined to the cold, I know. I am–...er,” he stuttered, a feeling of sinking despair beginning to take root where his stomach once was.

“...no, I-...I was- of winter blood; the heat was a lot for me.” Temperature didn’t appear to affect him much, now; everything felt cold, though notably, it did not match what he'd expect from the frost around them; this felt…different.

Looking at Lykos, Æros was not sure which was worse– your identity or your body being totally destroyed. What was clear, however, was that the result of either was devastating. The apparition, composed now of miasma, was unknowingly absorbing the tragedy that Lykos felt; though none of them were aware of it, the depth of his companion's emotions was acting as a stabilizer to his presently frail form.
- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
word count: 572

Say goodnight, to the weakness that you hide behind
Leaving the lies, leaving the fear inside
Never once were you truly alive
So scream all you like, no one can hear you


Soul laid bare,
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Hilana Chenzira
Posts: 880
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With Æros calming down a bit and settling, the girl was satisfied. She could only try to imagine how difficult it was, to have gone from flesh and blood with multiple Runes of considerable power to being a spectral entity. Perhaps it was better than being completely dead, but she needed to learn what had transpired from him when the opportunity arose. And when she took the spirit back to his home and family... Gods, that was going to be another layer of trouble on an already dicy and complex situation. Still, one step at a time. If you were going to eat a water bison, you did it one step at a time. 

“Æros is right. We live at the opposite end of the world from here,” the dark-haired girl told him. “But if you are uncomfortable, then we will imbue crystal lodestones for you, cold stones, to help keep you cool. Or get some frostrylyth dragonshards and work them into some sort of band or something to help.” Those were harder to come by in Solunarium, but needs must. Besides, if he was Lord of the Frost, perhaps he might be able to make some. Hilana wasn’t entirely certain exactly what different Gods could do, but this might well be part and parcel of his Domain. “We will figure all of this out,” she told the ghost, trying to reassure him as well. “Somehow, we will figure this out and see what we can do.”

“How are we going home?” Athalia asked her sister with some concern. “Your Elementalism reinitiation was hard enough, and Traversion needs someone with it lest you get separated from your body,” she reminded her. As troublemaking as Hilana had been as a child, as stubborn and intractable as she was for her family, surely even she wasn’t about to attempt another initiation right then when that threshold sickness was clearly still there. But they were going to have to come up with something, because while they could see and sense the land bridge now, she had a feeling her baby sister was right. They were at the opposite end of the world from their homeland. 

“We won’t be using that Rune, not right now,” Hilana assured her. “I have a Ring of Traversion that we can use. I’ve been practicing with it. It will get us back to Tertium. Though, Athalia... We’re going to have to play pretend with them. There is still an Athalia there, with her own brood of children. So for now, you’re Lia, from mother’s clan, and you’re coming with me to Solunarium Proper when we return. Æros had to go home early; there was a family issue. Lykos is our guest, and will also be coming with us to the Capital.” Athalia raised an eyebrow skeptically at her, but nodded. The fact that she had actually left the Void was something she was coming to terms with, though she had desperately wanted out of it.

“We are still playing pretend, soror?” ‘Lia’ managed a tired smile. “‘Soror’ means ‘sister’ in our language, which is called Vastian,” she explained to Lykos. “But very well, we’ll play our parts.”

The Vastiana focused on her ring, starting the Railroad in order to create a portal from where they were to get them to the opulent family estate in Tertium. The back gardens would do, because there was less chance of others being there to interrupt or freak out about this. “Go ahead,” Hilana reassured the group as they saw a vision of golden sands and exotic, colourful flowers. Lia went through first, and once Lykos and Æros through it, she followed. It was evening, though one couldn’t hardly tell with the ever-present sun, and one thing Lykos may have noticed was even though he was standing in the shade of multiple trees with enormous, spiky palm leaves, was the stunning change in the temperature around them. They went from being in the frigid north to being brightly-lit by the sun and a rather overbearing heat. As soon as the portal closed, the girl began to cool the immediate temperature around the divine being in order to help him acclimate to it. “Welcome to Tertium,” she smiled up at him, trying to encourage him. “Come, let’s get something to eat.”

They headed for the enormous house, leaving behind the gardens and going around a rather substantial swimming pool with patterned tiles that looked rather like marble. Hilana opened the door to lead them in, and headed for the kitchen. There would doubtless be food from the dinner that would have been had earlier still there, and while that gave them something to eat, Hilana could in fact make more. Her temperature was all over the map, and once they were inside, the house was already cooler than the much more hostile temperatures out of doors. There were wards on the building, helping to eliminate some of the excess heat and make it much more comfortable, courtesy of Lebaoth’s prowess with Negation.

The house was expansive, and much of it seemed expensive. From shining tiles that were washed by servants daily to elegant and tasteful works of art, from paintings and mosaics to statues, including figures of elves and dragons, but as soon as they went through a set of doors to the kitchen, scents of food were everywhere. “Here, sit,” Hilana encouraged Lia and Lykos, guiding them to a table before pouring cups full of hibiscus iced tea from the refrigerator for them and herself, and starting to sort through what was left from dinner. A basket of pitas was pulled from the cupboard, and deposited on the table, along with sturdy earthen bowls of different dips.

Lia took one of the pitas and tore a piece off, before using the spoon to add some of the thick, but creamy labneh to the piece of bread. “These are called pita breads,” she explained to him. “They’re a flatbread, but they do have a pocket so they can be stuffed, if you like, but we can use them now for the dips. This is labneh, a whipped cheese made from sheep’s milk.”

“How are you feeling?” Hilana asked Æros as she pulled out the remainder of the roast to start slicing it to be added to the food on the table. The servii would be drawn by the noise soon, and chances were…her father, too.

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Rickter
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Aeros assured the wolf that there was no ill will toward him, a generous comfort to be sure, but it was genuine sympathy that Lykos bore for the specter. Having lost the entirety of his life prior was one thing; but to have suffered, died, and then struggle with the reality of being bound to another? Lykos already wanted to assure them both that there was no debt to be paid, at least, not from the way he felt about the entire situation. If anything, he should've been the thankful one that owed them. They did find him in that room after all, and here they both were trying to help him, when they already had their own world of problems ahead.

"Sol-u-nari-um?" He repeated slow and steady to make sure he didn't butcher the name too badly. He had never heard of that place nor the Atraxian Sands, but apparently, it was the total opposite of the location they were in now. Where the North remained cold it seemed they were going further toward the South, leading Lykos to ponder just how hot exactly it grew down there. There came a look of small concern for Aeros though when he stammered, likely because he was still gripping the reality of his predicament as well. "Winter blood?" He pondered the connection there also, being this supposed Lord of Winter himself. "... You have my sympathies..."

He left the topic at that more than anything, mostly because he knew or at least expected it to be a difficult conversation. It became clear to Lykos that, even in his condition, he wanted to help out the trio that had found him. Ponderous as he was in regards as to how, that remained a task that would have to wait until later. Mostly because he lacked the energy, as well as intellect, to fully come up with any palpable ideas for the time being. Hilana weighed in though, sharing that they would indeed be on the other side of the world. What a strange concept for the wolf, even so, he feared it a little less now that he knew he was with good company.

"I... will do what I can to manage." He assured her when she mentioned crystal lodestones, something likely magic-related he hadn't fully grasped at. The idea of using magic didn't scare him as much, probably why he had several runes as is from his prior life. What they all meant or allowed him to do? Clearly, their guesses were as good as his, but Lykos was willing to try and figure out what he could; once they found an appropriate time and place to do so.

At the young lady's assurance that things were going to be worked out, the wolf gave her a soft if not meager smile to at least show an improved mood. As heavy as his heart felt right now, that didn't mean he couldn't find appreciation for even the smallest of noble intentions. Her sisterly companion Athalia raised some concerns though, regarding some reinitiation into Elementalism, and a Traversion rune that seemed to be in possession. The conversation, in general, earned a few quiet looks from Lykos, as he watched the two briefly ruminate on what they were going to have to do once home.

"Soror... Vastian... Got it." He gently remarked with a considered thought on that note, a gentle smile given to Athalia afterward. Hilana then focused on her trinket which would return them back home, opening a portal in the very fabric of space in front of them. For Lykos it was a strange event and not because it was the first time he'd observed portal magic, but because of the fact he could recognize the tear it made within the air. Why? He wasn't sure yet, only that his muscles felt ready to clench at the manifestation of its doorway.

At Lana's nudge to proceed before her, the wolf nodded understandably before trekking across the threshold. It was nearly overwhelming just to see the desert waiting on the other side, but when he finally crossed over, Lykos felt the immediate change on his skin once he stepped beyond the portal. It was different from the North. He immediately felt the heat bearing down on his head and shoulders, nearly causing him to break a sweat before the air started to cool off a bit. He traced the smell of aether through his nose, and noticed that it emanated from Hilana as she made the desert heat more bearable.

The scenery looked incredibly different from what little of the north he did see, garnering a look of pure awe as he gradually panned his gaze across the area. Trees where leaves were bright green and spiky, golden sand which covered the ground save for the vegetation found within the area. There was even a large house or estate of some kind, one which the girl started to lead them to as the wolf dumbfoundedly followed. "Tertium..." He gently repeated to himself, still taking mental notes when he could. There was a massive bathing area outside, in the sun no less, and the smell of the air felt dryer compared to the lands they'd left behind.

Going inside he felt it much cooler than being out in the sun, and as Lykos followed along, he soon noticed that there were magic wards throughout the house. He wasn't sure how he knew exactly, but even to his naked eye, he could trace the lines which connected them throughout certain points of the place. Not that he understood them nor the reason behind their setup, but, it was interesting for him to note as they made their way toward the kitchen. This was where all his attention shifted, once they entered to find the smell of food awaiting them. Food. He could smell the meats stored in the metal lockers they had, as well as the spices that were hanging over the firepit also.

So many tasty aromas made his gut groan even louder, as the younger sister pointed for them to find a seat. The wolf promptly did as he was told, and found his chair next to Lia as she'd been referred to earlier. Soon there were cups of something bitter provided, but thankfully cold as he noticed the ice within the tea. Lykos nodded appreciatively when he raised it to take a sip, only to refrain from grimacing so hard at the bitter taste of it. Yup. Tea clearly wasn't his thing in his previous life.

A basket of bread was taken out and placed on the table space in front of them, along with a few bowls filled with different sauces. Lia had taken to explain what they were, but by that point in time, Lykos found that his ravenous appetite could not be contained any longer. The first slice of pita bread he'd taken immediately went into his mouth, and though it was dry, it had been the first taste of real food since his awakening. Thus, the starved wolf promptly began to chomp away, a few soft groans and even moans made at the sensation of putting something in his gut. But that was nowhere near enough.

Realizing that the sauces were there to add flavor, as Athalia tried explaining, the wolf grabbed practically the entire half of the flatbread that was uncut, and then started to smother one end of it within the sauce. The flavor of it was phenomenal, being one of the first things he'd still eaten, and so the wolf continued to scarf down the first of his meal. Hopeful that he wouldn't be eating them out of food, Lykos tried to pace himself as best as he could, but the poor wolf felt so starved that he just couldn't help himself.

Last edited by Rickter on Tue Mar 05, 2024 11:53 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 1344
"Dialogue" Monologue
"Telion" "Hannah" "Lykos"
"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan" "Vastian"
Noble House
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Aeros
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TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -
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- - -
When Æros had been made manifest next to Hilana in the Void, he’d felt absolutely awful and had only felt worse as they left…but with Lykos now conscious, with His own heartbreak suffusing the air around them, the ghost felt notably less frayed. He still felt awful, without a doubt, but the creeping paranoia of simply ceasing to exist at any moment was beginning to wane. And though he could not quite tell whether it was simply being in the presence of a god, or if it was emotion, or what, the apparition was drawing the connection between him feeling slightly stronger and Lykos being awake.

“My father was touched by the Everwilds– Winter Court Fae-ethalan,” he clarified, though he wasn’t sure how much recognition Lykos would have to any of those things at this point.

When Lykos offered him sympathy, Æros closed his eyes, spectral arms crossing over his chest as he shook his head. Perhaps by instinct, he couldn’t help but to continue to gesticulate like he did when he was alive.

“I’d offer you mine, too, but I question the value of a dead man’s sympathies,” the ghost responded bleakly.

As Athalia and Hilana spoke, Æros had little to offer in protest to their plan, though he couldn’t help but to add, “...if one of those orbs was my Semblance, hang onto it, would you?” He paused for a moment, as if searching for how to phrase the next part.

“I…don’t know–...when or…if…I’ll ever be able to bind it back to my soul, but as I’m sure you can imagine, even if I can’t wield it, there’s–...there’s sentiment to that one. Please, keep it safe for me, I implore you.” His voice conveyed urgency, words woven with a mix of bitter sorrow and guilt.

With that, he waited for Hilana to create the portal. Æros never thought a day would come when he’d miss the striking heat of the desert. Granted, he supposed it wasn’t the heat that he missed– it was more the fact that he detected no change at all when he emerged out the other end of the portal; it was the fact that his ability to feel the world around him really was gone. The growing well of longing within him gnawed at every fibre of his essence.

That feeling was only made worse at the mention of food, though he had no choice but to be dragged along as the group moved to enter Hilana’s family home. While it was difficult to see him by default, Æros realized that he’d really rather not be identified by anyone within his friend’s home– most of the servii and much of her family would recognize him if they did manage to catch a glimpse, so as they moved, his shape began to shift, his silhouette slowly beginning to unravel. By the time they arrived in the kitchen, the apparition resembled little more than a barely visible cloud of ætheric mist in the Vastiana’s wake.

He watched in silence as the two girls moved to collect food for their starved companion, but that gnawing sense of longing began to dig in deeper, both tooth and claw latching on, dragging painfully through him; Æros could not help but to feel an incredibly bitter shade of envy. It took quite a bit of self control to, at first, say nothing, but then, when Hilana inquired about how was feeling? That composure shattered like glass.

His initial response was little more than an acrimonious guffaw; the sound of laughter, poisoned with that bitterness, emanated from the miasmatic fog.

“How am I feeling?” he echoed.

And this would be louder than before, a feat enabled only because he’d passively fed on the sorrow of his companions– though of this, he still stood on the cusp of realization. Further, Hilana would have never heard him speak with such unobstructed rancor any time prior.

“What a loaded question, don't you think?” he continued, this time having switched back to Vastian.

And granting no time for interjection, he went on,

“I stood before the seat of godhood and watched as everything that I am, everything that I had been, was obliterated before my very eyes. I felt every single second of my body being shredded by the winds of the Void, Hilana.

“...and as you’re no doubt well aware, I’ve always been a poor sport when it comes to life’s trials, burying myself in indulgence any time anything gets hard, no?

So here I am, without blood, without flesh, stripped of magic, watching as another gorges himself on epicurean pleasures I’ve no ability to touch…and you ask how I’m feeling? Would you truly like me to wax my misery for you?”


A pause.

“How do you think?”

Æros’ essence was flush with vitriol, vibrant and vicious– he had never been a stable man, and in life, he’d made ample use of both magic and substance to drown out his emotions, so now as he struggled with a pain that sand louder than ever before? He had nothing in terms of regulation. Were anyone in the vicinity in possession of Mesmer, the discordant noise of his Symphony would be impossible not to notice, cacophonous as it was.
- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
word count: 1009

Say goodnight, to the weakness that you hide behind
Leaving the lies, leaving the fear inside
Never once were you truly alive
So scream all you like, no one can hear you


Soul laid bare,
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Hilana Chenzira
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“I will hold onto it,” Hilana assured Æros when he requested that she not let go of the Rune of Semblance. If he was missing his, then surely it was his. That meant that perhaps Traversion and Masquerade had belonged to Lykos, but since he didn’t know and they had no way of confirming… the girl would hold onto it regardless. He didn’t have to worry about that. She could just Semble which was which, and keep them separate. If it was his… then that had been something shared between him and Khyan. She couldn’t fault him for wanting it back somehow. After all, she had managed to put hers on. Granted, with Athalia’s help, but all the same…

~

“Too tart?” Lia noticed the face he made when he tried the hibiscus tea. For a northerner, it likely was not sweet enough, but that at least got Hilana’s attention and she paused from butchering the roasted meat to grab the jar of sugar rocks and a spoon, adding a good shake of them to the hibiscus iced tea and stirring it for him. “Try that,” the elder sister encouraged him as Hilana came back to the counter and listened as what might have seemed like an innocent, mundane question triggered the spirit and Æros unleashed a torrential wave of anger. In the meantime, she could tell that it was better to keep the god distracted with the food that he very clearly needed and let Hilana manage the ghost.

While Lia remained at the table with Lykos and worked on her own flatbread and the various dips, or what was left of the whipped cheese dip that was now being devoured by the ravenous deity. Hilana just listened as Æros spoke in their shared tongue. She didn’t interrupt him, she didn’t try to get a word in edgewise, she didn’t say a thing. The only sound she made was the knife on the cutting board, and the transfer of the roasted goat to the platter. Better that he got it out now, at someone who could take it, and would take it, than the spirit be consumed in rage and become tainted by it. She could take that pain and fury and let it go. This was probably her fault somehow, but until she knew what had happened, there was little she could do. Æros was a much stronger mage than she was, and if it had been his Semblance yanked from him, he still has Masquerade and Mesmer to work with...

Once he was done, Hilana stayed quiet still. The heavy platter of meat went to the table, and the Vastiana grabbed dates and began to pit them with a sharp knife and her fingers. She spoke quietly in Vastian, not wanting to interrupt Lykos’ meal. “I think that you are suffering and you are grieving. You are hurt, you are terrified, and you are anxious. And you cannot soothe it with your Runes now,” she said finally, looking from the caramel-like fruits and the steadily growing bowl of pits as she kept on separating them to look at where the ghost’s voice came from. She didn’t want the god to choke on one, and with how hungry he was, stuffing the dates seemed fairly useless at that particular moment. “It is better that you get it out rather than let it fester. The more an infection festers, the more the sickness spreads and consumes.” She offered him a small, sad smile. “I grieve for you. I am so sorry that this happened, Æros, truly I am. But not everything that made you you has been taken from you. You are still here.” She paused in pitting the dates, giving her bruised and aching arm a bit of rest.

“Much has been taken from you. But not everything. Your body, yes. Your Runes, yes. But your magic does not make you who you are. Your blood does not make you who you are. It is part of your identity, part of what makes you you… but there is so much more to you than that. And they did not take that from you. It is devastating, and it is hard… but where there is a will, there is a way. We will find a way, Æros. Somehow, we will find a way to recoup what was lost.”
She brought the bowl of pitted dates to the table, and Lia took a few for her plate along with some of the meat to leave the rest to their ward.


word count: 786
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