old new friends
The trip from the Circle of Wandering to the heart of Kalzasi took both forever and was over all too soon. Even as they passed into the boundary of the city proper, Talon felt a weight pressing against the edges of his thoughts. How could he have been so blind to so many people in need? People who were crying out for justice, for hope, for a light in the darkness of their life? He felt impossibly ignorant but all too aware of the truth at the same time. Had he not seen the arrogance and cruelty of the nobility in his own city? Had he not witnessed the fear that had laced the very heart of Finn at a mere game of chance? Did not the rival to his family’s power in the city flaunt its position? Was not his own mother feared for her ruthlessness and tenacity? There was darkness in the silver halls of Talon’s life and he did not know if he was ready to face the full truth of it.
But he was fast realizing that he did not have a choice. His eyes pierced through shadows in a way that they had not before. He could see the fire burning inside the souls of all those around him. He only had to concentrate and sometimes, he did not need to concentrate at all. He felt almost drawn to certain people like a moth to an open flame. Talon wanted to act. The problem was, he did not know how. Talon angled his body, spreading his wings wide to slow his descent. He landed nimbly and with a steadiness that came from decades of taking to the skies. Gently he set Lyra down on her feet. Even as he did so, his attention was pulled to somewhere down the street. A soul was crying out for help, eliciting a furrowing of his brow. The muscles in his neck tightened as he resisted the urge to clench his jaw in frustration. His tension was eased however when he saw two Sky Guard quickly sprint down an alley. The cry for help faded, replaced with something that Talon could only describe as appeasement, relief or a soothing coolness to the fire that threatened to escape him.
Following Lyra into her shop, he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. The smell of parchment and books, ink and candlewax. Surprisingly, he could think more clearly inside. It was as though another veil had been set in place to shield him from the noise beyond the walls of the shop. He had not noticed it before but it made sense given how private Lyra was. The scripts along the walls and floor shimmered in his vision, similar but also different to how he viewed them through the lens of Semblance. There was something purer to them, as though he could, if he focused, extract from the symbols their truest meaning. Reaching up, Talon rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt Aoren’s hand upon his shoulder, he sensed the worry from his bondmate.
“I am alright. I am just sorting through how I see everything now.” Talon blinked a few times. The subtle difference in his vision did not go away.
“What are you feeling?” The two of them walked, following Lyra deeper into the shop. Again, Talon was struck with that sense of subtle difference. Things looked the same at first glance but everything felt different at the same time.
“It is that feeling you get when you have known something all your life, like a loved one or a friend. Familiarity, the promise of a certainty that will not change. You see them all the time but then you realize something is off and it leaves a strange feeling as you try to pinpoint what it is. The vision of them in your head does not quite match up to what is in front of you. Then you realize they cut their hair or there is a scar that was not there before.” Talon shook his head. He was about to run a hand through his hair when Aoren beat him to it. His bondmate threaded his fingers through Talon’s hair gently, fingers resting lightly upon the nape of his neck. The touch grounded him, it helped him feel less adrift in a sea of constant shifting. Talon’s eyes zeroed in on the door that Lyra opened. He felt Aoren’s surprise at realizing it was there.
“Talon…” Aoren’s voice held a warning. A reluctance in allowing him to go into the deeper part of the shop without him. Talon felt in his bondmate the echo of the events that played out in the Warrens, the unwillingness to let him out of his sight. Talon reached across their bond and soothed that fear. He mentally drew Aoren closer even as he stepped out of his gentle grasp. He touched his forehead to his partner’s. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before an understanding was reached.
“Lead the way.” He tucked his wings in close, following after Lyra into the depths of her laboratory.
70 Frost 120
Talon merely bowed his head respectfully as Lyra spoke her gentle reprimand. The words, though pointed, felt as though they lacked the normal sting he had seen her unleash against less fortunate souls. His vision was not perfect and he was nor omniscient though Talon had begun to pick up on the fact that he had a divine awareness. He just needed to figure out how it worked. He took her hand with the same steadiness that he grasped most things, gently he scooped her up into his arms then spread his wings. It did not take him long to ascend high into the skies. As he did, he found himself thinking carefully on how he would brace himself for the weight of being closer to the city. He could not hide from the din of voices that he heard on the edges of his thoughts forever. There had to be a way, not to silence them, but to understand them.
The trip from the Circle of Wandering to the heart of Kalzasi took both forever and was over all too soon. Even as they passed into the boundary of the city proper, Talon felt a weight pressing against the edges of his thoughts. How could he have been so blind to so many people in need? People who were crying out for justice, for hope, for a light in the darkness of their life? He felt impossibly ignorant but all too aware of the truth at the same time. Had he not seen the arrogance and cruelty of the nobility in his own city? Had he not witnessed the fear that had laced the very heart of Finn at a mere game of chance? Did not the rival to his family’s power in the city flaunt its position? Was not his own mother feared for her ruthlessness and tenacity? There was darkness in the silver halls of Talon’s life and he did not know if he was ready to face the full truth of it.
But he was fast realizing that he did not have a choice. His eyes pierced through shadows in a way that they had not before. He could see the fire burning inside the souls of all those around him. He only had to concentrate and sometimes, he did not need to concentrate at all. He felt almost drawn to certain people like a moth to an open flame. Talon wanted to act. The problem was, he did not know how. Talon angled his body, spreading his wings wide to slow his descent. He landed nimbly and with a steadiness that came from decades of taking to the skies. Gently he set Lyra down on her feet. Even as he did so, his attention was pulled to somewhere down the street. A soul was crying out for help, eliciting a furrowing of his brow. The muscles in his neck tightened as he resisted the urge to clench his jaw in frustration. His tension was eased however when he saw two Sky Guard quickly sprint down an alley. The cry for help faded, replaced with something that Talon could only describe as appeasement, relief or a soothing coolness to the fire that threatened to escape him.
Following Lyra into her shop, he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. The smell of parchment and books, ink and candlewax. Surprisingly, he could think more clearly inside. It was as though another veil had been set in place to shield him from the noise beyond the walls of the shop. He had not noticed it before but it made sense given how private Lyra was. The scripts along the walls and floor shimmered in his vision, similar but also different to how he viewed them through the lens of Semblance. There was something purer to them, as though he could, if he focused, extract from the symbols their truest meaning. Reaching up, Talon rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt Aoren’s hand upon his shoulder, he sensed the worry from his bondmate.
“I am alright. I am just sorting through how I see everything now.” Talon blinked a few times. The subtle difference in his vision did not go away.
“What are you feeling?” The two of them walked, following Lyra deeper into the shop. Again, Talon was struck with that sense of subtle difference. Things looked the same at first glance but everything felt different at the same time.
“It is that feeling you get when you have known something all your life, like a loved one or a friend. Familiarity, the promise of a certainty that will not change. You see them all the time but then you realize something is off and it leaves a strange feeling as you try to pinpoint what it is. The vision of them in your head does not quite match up to what is in front of you. Then you realize they cut their hair or there is a scar that was not there before.” Talon shook his head. He was about to run a hand through his hair when Aoren beat him to it. His bondmate threaded his fingers through Talon’s hair gently, fingers resting lightly upon the nape of his neck. The touch grounded him, it helped him feel less adrift in a sea of constant shifting. Talon’s eyes zeroed in on the door that Lyra opened. He felt Aoren’s surprise at realizing it was there.
“Talon…” Aoren’s voice held a warning. A reluctance in allowing him to go into the deeper part of the shop without him. Talon felt in his bondmate the echo of the events that played out in the Warrens, the unwillingness to let him out of his sight. Talon reached across their bond and soothed that fear. He mentally drew Aoren closer even as he stepped out of his gentle grasp. He touched his forehead to his partner’s. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before an understanding was reached.
“Lead the way.” He tucked his wings in close, following after Lyra into the depths of her laboratory.
"I am Justice."