No Man Loves the Bearer of Bad Tidings [Æros]

[Hilana Chenzira]

62 Glade, Year 123

[Closed - Æros]

With Lykos and Lia settled at Red Rock, Hilana and Æros retrieved her cat, kittens, snakes, and camels from Tertium, along with what she needed and Æros’ belongings that he had brought with him to her family’s estate for the races. Hayima’el was checked on and loved on, and as much as she hated leaving him, she couldn’t stay to handle the breeding aspect herself. There were simply too many irons in the fire. Camels for Lia and Lykos had been left at the Citadel, and her own spare, Juttia, was now in Hayima’el’s stall at the stable in her apartment in the Luxium.

The new Sylvine kittens had gotten settled in the apartment with the senior Queen, Risdra, looking on. But they had bonded well enough that the three of them were getting along, and there were enough toys to keep the kittens busy. Hilana had cleaned herself up and pinned up her hair before setting out with the two pythons and one spectral Æros for Palaemon’s Luxian estate. Inside of her Featherlight satchel was the Rune of Semblance that she had retrieved from the Sentinels, who, while being somewhat flummoxed by the fact that it was in that shape, had had to conclude it was not dangerous and return it to her. Just as well, Hilana was prepared to have gone over their heads otherwise if they hadn’t been returned in a timely fashion or explained to her why her possessions from the Void were too dangerous to be kept around. But with the Runes back, it was easier to keep those safe in the Satchel in the meantime, not to mention the whip.

Hilana was not looking forward to this. Not looking forward to bringing Palaemon’s departed cousin home in this state. Perhaps it was better than being permanently consigned to the Void, because there was some path, however obstructed and seemingly-impossible at the moment, to returning the senator back to life. But it was going to have to be done - Æros needed her to go, simply because he was bound to her, and if he got too far away, it was proving extremely difficult on him. Besides, his family could likely also furnish a servus that Æros could possess for the time being, rather than one of those at Red Rock to give him a body besides herself and Lia.

She’d gotten used to the sense of a ghost hanging around now that it had been a few days of his non-stop presence, and the spirit was likely getting the sense that even in her downtime, she was busy. Perhaps it was just getting everyone into the new schedule, but when Hilana got back to work... then lessons... projects... training... hobbies... relaxing and laying about was going to seem like such a very fondly-held memory. The Vastiana rarely stopped, and hadn’t for the last few days despite the threshold sickness. She was using her teas and concoctions to help with the effects of having her Rune ripped off of her and then forced back on, and the fact she was not allowing herself the proper time to sit and recover. There was simply far too much to do; and she would likely pay for it later, but for now... She knocked on the door. She knew she was days and days earlier than expected back, but hopefully, Palaemon would be in. “Salve, how are you?” she greeted the familiar serva. “Is Dominus Palaemon in?”

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

Over the past few days in which Hilana was adjusting back to her usual life, rather, she was attempting to, were taxing on the ghost, extraordinarily bitter as he was. However, the net result of this was him actually being unusually quiet compared to how he usually was. He’d lose himself in his own ruminations, anchoring his miasma to various objects on the girl’s person at points and torturing himself by replaying the incident with the tree over and over and over in his mind’s eye. Sometimes, Hilana would even have trouble getting his attention, and oftentimes when she did, she’d be met with a voice that sounded hollowed, exhausted, and strained. Other than that, his essence would cling to her, as if trying to set himself aside and distract himself by ‘living’ in a way, through her– watching her life play out before him like a movie, pretending, in those moments, that he didn’t exist at all.

When the time did come to return him to his house, the spirit was of several minds. He was desperate for the familiarity of his family, but the deep shame he felt about the entire scenario was something he couldn’t deny, and though he knew that the most important of his kin would be soft on him, he knew that others wouldn’t, and he hadn’t the faintest idea how the larger elven class might perceive…this.

Nevertheless, the moment arrived, and a familiar, golden eyed and tanned skin serva opened the door when Hilana knocked. She, possessing a knack for the Semblance rune she’d been gifted, blinked at Hilana in disbelief. The serva stared wordlessly for several moments, feeling almost nauseated at the fact that she wasn’t seeing things, that, indeed, the soul of her house’s master clung to the Vastiana before her, fully incorporeal.

It took a moment, but she did compose herself, though her eyes remained wide and nervous. “Y-yes…but, I would advise choosing your words carefully with him, given…the circumstances.”

Æros wished to soothe her in some way, but his ability to weave Symphonies was inert in present form and he very much doubted that manifesting his voice would do anything but further unnerve the girl.

“This way,” she added, attempting to force a sort of pleasant cordiality, though she didn’t quite succeed.

Through the manse they would go until they found themselves heading into the gardens, as was typical for Palæmon. Though he was obscured heavily by plantlife towards the center, the serva spotted him with her Sembler’s sight and guided Hilana through rather thick foliage to find the man collecting several medicinal herbs from a few different plants. When he turned his head to regard the two that'd sought him, his expression shifted from bright to confused. The serva had a rather nervous, finicky sort of expression, something she was very poorly trying to mask, and the mere fact that Hilana wasn't a bright ray of sunshine was immediately off-putting.

"Dominus, Hilana has something with you she'd like to discuss," the girl stated sheepishly before bowing and hurriedly leaving.

Palæmon rose a brow at this markedly strange display, further confused because the longer Hilana existed in his presence, the colder the air got around them. He could detect the presence of an additional entity, too, familiar as he was with spirits due to his skill with both Summoning and Elementalism, but he couldn't tell exactly what that presence was, especially so given the ghost had chosen to manifest himself so lightly such that he was nigh invisible.

"...and whom have you brought with you?" The moonborn inquired, bracing himself for anything.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana was not entirely surprised by the serva’s reaction. Æros was the Senator of the house, after all, and he had lived up here until the Courts split into two. As common as Semblance was, well. There had been some looks on the way here, and she knew that when she started back at work, if they could not procure a body through his family’s generosity today, then she would just have to use the mask. Well, she was going to have to regardless to hide his aura and symphony, unless something was crafted to block that. But they would see what they had to do later on. The Mask in the meantime would help, even if he didn’t really interact a whole lot with people during the day. She would just need to fine-tune it, but that was getting easier. Besides, she knew he did want to return to his prior position, so with luck, he would be able to do that, and in another body, he would at least be able to use Mesmer. He could, perhaps, even put his Semblance rune back on. But maybe he wanted to wait until he had gotten his own form back.

They’d figure it out. For now, she was getting ahead of herself. There was no point in putting the cart before the horse, and this still needed to be navigated. So she followed the serva, her spectral companion in tow. As they moved into the foliage, she gathered her long skirts, swirling patterns of black, teal, and silver today, moving along easily enough in sandals that were tied around her ankles. This didn’t bother her at all, and she was perfectly comfortable in this garden. Or normally she would be, but considering the news she had and the fact Æros was dead and coming along with her…

“Dominus,” Hilana bowed to him, smoothing her skirts. Tiaz was making his way back into her bag, not particularly enjoying the coolness of Æros’ presence. Once the serva was gone and he posed his question, Hilana looked grim. “Dominus Æros and I went and did some exploring from Tertium, and there was a series of difficult events,” she began. There was only so much she could share, and there was only so much she would share that was Æros' to decide how much he wanted his family to know. She knew he felt rage and shame about what had happened, and she knew, further, that he was not likely to want to tell his cousin exactly how he had ended up in this state. Talking of Gods was not a good idea, not right now. “He didn’t make it, but his spirit is strong and managed to get back to me. He is here with us now.” She stopped to let him digest this for a moment. “I’m sorry to bring this to you… but I felt that you were the best one to approach in your family to get an idea how to proceed.”

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

Ever since his youth, Palæmon had little in terms of political aspirations; this even bled into what runes he'd accepted and declined. Unlike Æros, his parents were patient; Janus waited until Palæmon was entering his teens to have the boy initiated and let him choose which one. He was patient, and further, gracious enough to let his son choose; Palaemon’s choice being Elementalism at first, then his interests guided him to Summoning and more recently, Kinetics. He was a man always fascinated by shape and movement, nature and life, and the crafts he’d taken reflected that. In throwing himself into these pursuits, he’d forsaken the more common choices of his house, that being Mesmer, Masquerade or Semblance. Of the three, the only one he’d even considered taking was Semblance, and in these moments, he did wish he’d taken that one.

Palæmon did, however, carry Auralyth lenses, and when Hilana named the ghost she was harboring, the willowy elf bid to reach for them from within his pockets. He appeared jolted; with twitching movements and shaking hands, he put the glasses on and that, alongside his familiarity with spirits and his cousin specifically, he confirmed it for himself that the apparition hanging heavy in the air before him was, indeed, Æros. The man was wordless, and abruptly, he’d shift forward then freeze, all of his muscles tense; his first instinct was to embrace his cousin, but with no corpus, there was nothing to latch onto.

The usually mirthful, talkative moonborn was stunned; his throat dry and choked into silence by a flurry of conflicting emotions. For his cousin to have been preserved like this, tethered to another in this fashion, it was either the work of powerful Necromancy or the divine; whichever it was, however, he could not tell. His brow furrowed as his thoughts continued to race, lips parting a few times and closing again when no words came out.

The spirit– Æros– partially filled the silence with the spectacle of his manifestation, appearing between Hilana and Palæmon, though off to the side. “I’m…sorry,” was all the deceased patrician managed to say.

The apology startled Palæmon, who responded, rambling, “...I…no, we–...we can fix this. S-somehow…we have to.”

Then, looking to Hilana, “...and he’s bound to you? Do you…do you know the, ah…the nature of that bond? How it happened?” All the moonborn could think to do now was anxiously fish for information, despite much of him still being lost in a sea of disbelief.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana had anticipated Palaemon being upset, and she hadn't been sure how the Moonborn would react when it came to being upset. Some people shut down, some people melted down, and some people exploded. It was impossible to know; the Vastiana had always sought to not cause such a reaction with someone who she greatly admired. But there was nothing for it: this was going to be devastating news, no matter how she delivered it, and better to start with the only one of his family that she felt particularly safe with and that she had the mosth experience with. While she had protections due to her proximity with the Sentinels and her holy quest, when it came to angry Re'hyaeans, she was treading in very deep water.

When the spirit apologized to his cousin, and that caused him to stutter, Hilana's fingers smoothed over her long skirts and she had to settle herself. This was going to be a long story, and much of it Æros' to tell; but she had a feeling she would be summarizing it at least twice today. She didn't know where Lord Janus was, but since she was asked... "From what I understand from hearing Æros' experience in our misadventure... Shaeoth, the Lord of the Void, chose to use myself as an anchor for his soul. A fetter, if you will, Dominus," she explained. "He usually feels more like himself if he's near me, so I guess that it helps keep him together since ghosts can start to unravel if they are brought away from their fetters."

She wasn't sure if that made much sense, but since his mother was an ardent practitioner of Necromancy, perhaps Palaemon knew more about it than she did. Hilana only knew some of it, and it had been a while since she had looked into it. While she had snagged one of her old Necromancy books from her Great-Aunt when they had retrieved her animals from her estate, the girl hadn't gotten to go in depth in her reading. There was a lot more to do and get everyone settled in, and she would need to be doing that tonight... though depending on how quickly word reached Janus and Thessia, she might get a lesson far sooner than she anticipated. She didn't know if they would blame her for it or be relieved that she was able to bring him home, but... if something happened to her, then Æros was going to be in a lot more trouble.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

With deep sadness reflected in glassy eyes, Palæmon’s brow furrowed; his features bore confusion wracked with pain. His mind, at first, tried to find any other explanation for what was before him than the truth– but after a few moments, he realized that this was an exercise in futility. With his brow furrowed in confusion, his lips parted, then twitched as he couldn’t find the words.

“I…imagine this is a…complex tale,” Palæmon started after the mention of Shæoth.

The Lord of the Void? Why would He be involved at all? His involvement made this situation all the more terrifying, for the Void Lord held no love for mortals– what had been the cost to be returned in this way? And who was it that caught Shæoth’s attention? Surely, Æros himself was below the ancient’s notice…

The moonborn’s eyes leveled on Hilana, his features straightening as much as they could. “A tale I’ll pull from Æros’ now-bare soul…later. We can worry about the how…later,” he sighed.

“For now, father needs to know, we need to…figure out what to do with him. What he can even do, in this state…” Palæmon was rambling slightly as his mind bounced between the burning curiosity about how this happened, a blend of sadness and awe that the other had died and returned, and frustration at the fact that his family would have to work around the massive hurdle of their newly appointed head being dead, but not gone.

Through the connection shared by parent and child, Palæmon’s voice was heard within Janus’ mind, ‘Æros is a ghost,’ he said, and for a few painful moments, silence.

‘I’m sorry? Æros is…what?’ came the response; Janus’ voice rang back with perfect clarity, confused.

‘Incorporeal; dead but not gone; sundered; miasma: a ghost,’ he rambled, completely unnecessary, but unable to stop himself.

‘Where are you?’ inquired the elder of the two.

‘My gardens,’ Palæmon answered, anguish in his voice now.

‘Wait there,’ Janus replied.

“I, ah…hold on. Sorry. This is a family matter, but if you’re bound to him, you’ll…have to wait for a bit, too.” Palæmon looked to Hilana apologetically.

Æros understood the insinuation, and then to the best of his currently meagre abilities, manifested himself– an echo of what he once was.

Though it was ambiguous as for what he meant by saying ‘hold on,’ the Vastiana needn’t linger long, as less than a few minutes later, a tear in the atmosphere drew itself a few feet away from where Palæmon and Hilana stood. The tear expanded in an instant, a doorway drawing itself into being with shimmering, æthereal edges, and from it walked three figures. The first, Janus, the second, Thessia, and the third, Hespæros.

Janus’ expression was always guarded, his face remarkably placid in even the most dramatic of situations, and this was no different– though if one looked close enough, his eyes bore, for a brief moment, fear, and then…frustration. Annoyance? when his gaze found itself upon the Vastiana and the diaphanous shade that was his nephew. Thessia, for her part, looked at the scene before her with a face far more academic once she saw that what her husband had told her was true. She was determined to set her emotions aside for now and to examine Æros’ new form as accurately as she could. And Hespæros, the man whose portal they’d used, looked baffled; he’d come along because he’d seen the urgency in Janus’ expression and insisted that, since the portal was his, he was as entitled to walk through it as they were. From anyone else, Janus might’ve responded harshly to that, but this was, after all, his only living brother.

“What a mess,” Hespæros commented, shaking his head. “The girl? Why is she here?”

“Hespæros, don't start.” Thessia chided.

The man shrugged, then crossed his arms over his chest, but said nothing more.

“Æros’ soul is fettered to her,” Palæmon answered anyway.

This information caused Janus to tense for a moment, irritated that Æros’ anchor was a living person. If he’d been anchored to an object, they could work with that far easier than a human being– Hilana had her own life to live, so that…complicated things.

Thessia, petite in build and short for an elf, shorter than Hilana, stepped toward the shade and leaned forward, her eyes clouding over until her irises disappeared entirely. Through her Semblance, she began poring over what remained of her nephew. The men stood in an imposing silence; there was nothing to say until she'd had a chance to look him over. Knowing that most ghosts were torn, unraveling fragments of their former selves, the three older Re’Hyæans were all expecting Æros to be an unsalvageable mess. And yet– that was not the case. The Necromancer blinked in surprise a few times, cocking her head to the side, though her gaze did not waver.

“He is as close to himself as he could be sans flesh,” Thessia started, still rapidly sifting through layer upon layer of information reflected in the spirit’s Aura. “...but I couldn’t tell you how. The moments of his death– they’re gone. Whatever his resurrection; that’s missing, too.”

Standing straight and stepping back, eyes returning to the blue-flecked, stormy sort of brown they normally were. “Something, or someone, more likely, has suppressed those moments from prying eyes, though everything else is laid bare as normal.”

Her face shifted quizzical, and looking at Æros directly, “...somebody has given you a gift. But can you recall who?”

The ghost panicked at the question. Now that he knew that part of his Aura had been suppressed…could he tell them?

“I…remember everything, clear as crystal,” the apparition began, his voice an uncanny echo projected into the air; it lacked the warmth of sound from living lips. “But if the scene is silenced from my Aura…I shouldn’t– I can’t– say the details, can I?” Æros sounded distraught.

After a moment, he decided. “I’ll say this much: I am returned by a deal struck with three deities.”

Thessia, planting her hands on her hips, “...it’s hard to say such a thing is preposterous with how well preserved he is. No ghost naturally would return so…pristine. And their tether–” the woman gestured between Hilana and the wayward soul, ” –their tether, I’ve never seen anything like it, nor even come across notation of the sort in literature. Ghosts, well, ghosts normally, have a tenuous tether to our plane, hanging on by fraying threads through sheer force of emotion, overwhelmed by it and determined to accomplish something…but not Æros; this is entirely different. Whoever, whatever, made this…it’s brilliant. It’s fascinating.” The moonborn woman was trying, and failing, to hide her interest; she knew now wasn’t the time for her erudite enthusiasm, breathtaking as the sight was. Janus would never show it, but it would hurt him if she outwardly treated his nephew as a research subject.

There was some relief to the tension in the air with these words– knowing that Æros hadn’t been reduced to a maddened echo of his former self was, to all of them, a weight lifted. “He will take time to learn how to wield miasma in lieu of æther, however– the two are like siblings,” with the comparison, she turned her head to look at the Re’hyæan brothers that lingered behind her.

Then to Æros, “...time is of the essence, here. Whoever gave you this second chance, embrace it, embrace them, their faith in you– and push forward. Society’s tides will not wait, and if you remain weak, they will wash you away.” It was rare for Thessia to be so stern.

And to Hilana, “I know not why to you he is bound, but for now, you are his shelter; we can only ask that you shield him ‘til he finds his footing in his new form,” but from her tone, this wasn’t a request.

Janus took a breath and stepped forward, standing next to his wife. “Ghosts normally can’t pull upon their fetters, and yet the two of you must find a way to live your own lives.”

He glanced to Hespæros, “...feel around. See about suitable…hosts.”

The other man’s brow rose, but he nodded. “Aye, easy enough– if a request from you. Easy, that is, should the boy have the strength to pilot another,” he responded, eyeing Æros.

Thessia would whisper something in her spouse’s ear, the other shifting his eyes to her, nodding. The passing glances between all of the elves indicated that there was much between them left unspoken, but each of them were of the mind to problem solve this veritable calamity rather than break down. Their house had been in the middle of a restructure, a passing of power…and the one meant to be the recipient thereof had gone and gotten himself killed.

Hespæros grimaced, then looked like he was about to laugh, “...and Selene?”

Janus outright sighed. “Is that you volunteering to inform her?”

To which the other man visibly cringed. “Oh, no, we really should both– she’d brook the news better in presence of both her brothers,” he said with the fakest of smiles.

Janus rose a brow at the other. “Hm.”

Then, abruptly, he looked to Hilana, “...we can trust you to encourage Æros to focus on learning to…possess others, hm? Sometimes, the boy needs to be pushed– and the skill is…imperative.”

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana just nodded and smoothed her skirts in silence while Palaemon communicated with his relatives. Or, at least, she assumed he was speaking to a parent; but she had no real way of knowing that. Shadows gathered around her, joining her own. The girl was not thrilled to be here in these circumstances, but then again, who would have been? But she had no choice in the matter. What was done was done. When her paedagogus told her she would have to hang on, the girl nodded, her suspicions confirmed. Rather than shuffle or fidget, the nomad started inspecting the plants anew, fingers touching petals and stalks as she compared each to what she knew from reading and listening to her teachers, and from her memory of how they had looked the last time she had been in these gardens. Which had still been fairly recently, but it was nice to see how things grew.

But when the three senior elves stepped through the portal, Hilana drew herself back to the cluster and bowed low, sweeping out her skirts before straightening. She folded her hands respectfully in front of her, her larger python shifting his weight in her rucksack as he got settled. When her presence was questioned, the Vastiana had been about to answer, but Palaemon did it for her. As such, she kept her mouth shut for now, letting Janus' wife examine Æros without further comment. When she realized that his experience with the Gods was hidden from the lithe Re'hyaean's Sembling sight, she knew that her wards would come in handy. She didn't know just how much Palaemon and Æros might have told their family about her and her dealings with the Sentinels, but Palaemon certainly knew that she was associated with House Phaedryn, and she was blocked from the nosy people who wanted to inspect her. She did hope that they did not try.

Æros also had the realization that it was blocked, and therefore saying nothing was likely their best bet. Midnight's Mother had surely concealed it for her own reasons, if it was her as Hilana suspected it was; but she had no way of confirming. At Thessia's words to her, she nodded. "Yes, Domina. I will do what I can." Which was only so much until those ahead of her decided what they would do. Raithen and Finn both outranked her, and they were none-too-pleased with the ghost that was bound to her. Against them, Hilana was the at the bottom of the totem pole, and Raithen outranked any of these assembled.

When Janus requested that she push his deceased nephew when it came to working on his skills, she bowed her head to him. "You need not worry about that, Dominus. I tend to be very good at pushing him into doing things he might not have wanted to do." That was very much the truth of things.... and part and parcel as to what brought on this calamity. But the Vastiana was stubborn, persistent, and tireless. Æros had already found that out in many encounters, and the girl was not one for giving up.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

Hespæros crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly, one brow raised– the man’s gaze was some variation of bewildered incredulity when his brother’s attention shifted back to Hilana. This whole situation was an unfathomable mess, and it was certainly well beyond the purview of his expertise.

But still, he looked at the shade through a half lidded gaze, “...you’ve really done it now, haven’t you, Æros?” He’d shake his head. “I do look forward to watching you claw your way out of this one.” He sounded half mocking and nigh insincere, but he was a difficult man to read.

“Hespæros.” Thessia would retort, the name spoken sharp as a blade.

“What?” He shrugged. “He will, won’t he? He may be dead but he isn’t gone and, as you said, he’s still himself.” Whatever he really felt, it was clear enough that the man wasn’t used to holding his tongue ‘round his kin.

Janus gave the other man a pointed look. Turning back to Hilana, Æros and Palæmon, he’d sigh.

“Would that we could keep him, but I imagine with this tether he’s stuck to her? Or no?” He’d look to Thessia then for confirmation.

To which, his wife would nod. “‘Til I get more time to look at it, at least– the tether’s dense. There’s always some mutability when it comes to dead things, though, so I’ll see what can be done. But otherwise, ‘til he learns to possess the living, he likely won’t be able to wander far from her. Come by as often as your schedule permits it, will you, Hilana?”

Thessia’s gaze would shift then from the Vastiana onto the ghost’s spectral manifestation and she’d step forward, lifting a hand and reaching out as if to touch him. Æros’ incorporeality resulted in her hand passing through like air, though the space he occupied was notably frigid. She’d squint.

“Try to condense yourself more,” she’d say, “...you can, it’s just a matter of you figuring out how.”

He didn’t know what exactly she meant; had her Semblance given her some insight he lacked? Was it just her foreknowledge of ghosts that gave her that idea? He couldn’t quite tell, but he’d attempt to obey. It took quite a bit of concentrated effort on his part, but his gossamer visage would condense just a bit more, still certainly incorporeal, but far more opaque.

As he did this, Thessia would wince and withdraw her hand as the chill of his miasma bit into her more. Squeezing her hand in the other, “...see? Keep pushing yourself. There’s enough of you there to solidify, eventually,” she’d add.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Hilana Chenzira]

At Hespaeros' comment, Hilana kept her face and bland as possible. It was not her place to interrupt or remonstrate one of Populus Ex'Reha, and she was not about to make comments in that regard. She was quite unfamiliar with him; Æros' one bubbly sister was another that she was friendly with, having met her a few times, but those of the previous generation? The Vastiana was already treading on shaky ground, and thankfully, Domina Thessia said something. She was hardly happy with Æros for this situation, either, especially considering the revelations that had come from the day before. But where Raithen and Finn had the station and wherewithal to do something about it if they so chose, Hilana could not. She was on the bottom rung of the ladder here, and upsetting Re'hyaeans would only end poorly for her and everyone involved with her.

For all that people loved the cities, the girl preferred the safety of the sands for precisely that reason. Less people, less societal rules and expectations, and it was a lot easier for her to get out of sticky situations.

"I can come by during my lunch breaks?" Hilana offered in answer to Thessia's request for her frequent visits. "That is about daily, and then we can visit after work depending on my schedule for lessons." She had a lot of those, and not to mention her trips and forays outside the city, and the fact that she had two out at Red Rock Citadel that were patiently waiting for her to come home each day, plus her animals at the apartment to look after... Her already jam-packed schedule was about to be made busier, or forcibly less busy, depending on how she looked at it. "But I could bring him at lunch, someone can provide a host, he can possess them, and I can stop by after work to pick him up again." That seemed to be a decent opportunity or compromise for her. That way he could at least spend time with his family. She did need to work, they had other things to do, and this way the deceased half-Fae could spend some time amongst his kin.

She watched as Thessia encouraged her nephew to condense himself. Kind of like what Palaemon's aidolon did, clearly. He would just have to keep working at it, but between them... he would surely figure it out. "Keep going," she encouraged him. "Don't let go of your focus, Æros."

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

From the perspective of Æros’ own kin, the conspicuous absence of his favored pet was almost a welcome one. Many of their opinions varied heavily per individual, and while some even believed their budding relationship to have been a good thing (insofar as it gave Æros a more positive state of mind), the majority did not approve of it. They were, however, oblivious to the slave’s sentimental value to people outside of their house– but it was nebulous whether that would ever affect them or not.

Khyan’s ultimate fate was known to nobody outside of the Founders, Shæoth, and the select few who still had cared for the boy. Æros’ ties to Khyan’s disappearance were, ultimately, obscure at best– it wasn’t even provable that Khyan was dead, at least, not publicly, and there was nothing that directly tied his disappearance to Æros’ hand. As such, it was unlikely that much ought to come of that part of it– at least not in any manner more dramatic, as that would look completely unprovoked, bizarre, and bordering upon petulant for people of high status to be so upset by the unsolved disappearance of a single slave owned by minor nobility.

But seeing as how Æros struggled immensely, in the present state, to even manifest himself with much tangibility, the negative feelings of others in a general sense were, by far, the lowest of his priorities– Khyan’s fate was sealed and there was nothing left to be done on that front. He had his own grief to process without the utter nuisance that others’ vexation at the concept was. And while he did care for Hilana's feelings, it was more that aside from her, he was content enough simply to distance himself from those who would choose to hang onto anger. Because ultimately, if he were to keep going, then the only thing about his dying circumstances he cared to think about was the eventual goal of hunting down the creature which had tricked him.

Realistically that was it, wasn’t it? Though he felt like he was processing only half of which was being said around him, anything encouraging boiled down to a single sentiment: ‘keep going.’

Thessia’s gaze shifted to Hilana at the girl’s suggestions. “That would work– we’ll eventually find something that’s less of a nuisance for all of us, I’m sure, but…one step at a time,” the woman said with something of a soft sigh.

Hespæros seemed unduly curious at the slightly more condensed ghost that lingered now in front of him whilst Janus seemed to have rescinded into himself, as if his mind were running miles per minute.

“Thank you…I will,” Æros began to what Hilana had said; her words had touched the undulating emotional core of Æros’ still-mortal soul.

“And I thank you again– for everything you have done for me thus far and everything you will do in the future.”

The latter of the two sentiments was stated in a fashion that indicated wishful thinking despite its phrasing; he held no expectations of her, only that he hoped she’d want to stick around as a friend to him even without the tether. Through their shared connection, Hilana would be able to feel bits of his emotional tumult– his sincerity to her, his fears, his regrets, anxieties, guilt, grief– all of it. The decision he’d made to stay alive was one of a beast backed into a corner, and, strung up before his gods, he hadn’t felt as if it even were a choice. To say no felt tantamount to biting the hand that fed him. In time, he hoped she could forgive him.

- - -

"Vallenor"

"Vastien"

"Valasren"

"Common"