The Siltori smiled; Riven was in accord. In fact, much of what he said felt as if it had fallen straight through his own lips. The man wanted to leave his old life behind. He craved freedom, the sort that his wings could offer him as he glided above the ingress of a valley or an open field.
The Ebon Knight's eyes seemed to wander, his gaze shifting in and out of focus as he imagined what sort of life the two could have together. The cabin was an exciting prospect, but it was one image of the array of what the next centuries together would be like. If they could have them -- he realized there was a possibility that not everything would go as they wanted. Reality had often been cold and harsh, enough to make him feel sometimes that he was deluding himself. That things would change between them eventually; that he was merely running from the fate that followed him. But he also knew more of what he wanted than before -- traveling the world since leaving Sil-Elaine had changed his perspective. It was something that Taelian and Riven both shared in common. They had both been forced to wander, fugitives of their old lands. Both of them wanted peace.
He knew that all of this was real. He felt the love escape Riven's lips as he shared it with him. It wasn't just in his words, but in every action as the man repeatedly kissed him and encompassed him in his arms. The mage expressed his brimming joy with a thin, small smile, as he looked up to the other man and met his eyes with a look of... total peace. He closed his eyes, then, and let the feeling of Riven around him and the wind upon his cheeks consume all sensation, all sensory.
"I feel at peace when I'm with you, you know," he said. Taelian felt his whole body warm as he spoke. "It's only when I'm with you that I can think of other things -- things that aren't where I came from, or what I've been made to be, or what I feel I have to do. You're my freedom, Riven," Taelian whispered. He kissed the other man, weaving into the Avialae's firm grasp. "But the home won't hurt. It'll be something for just us -- our abode. And sure... I won't cook, but I'll have to come with you on the hunts, then. I can't just lay around making clothes all day," he laughed.
Riven carried on further. He spoke even more enthusiastically of the place Taelian suggested -- all of the things it offered. He gestured to Taelian's Beacon, and his own soul, and Taelian pointed his finger up to the sun. Another good source of fire; the cabin was fairly exposed to it without the coverage of trees, but he didn't mind. They would always have light coming in through their windows, and something for the garden to prosper from.
The two made it to the bank. Immediately, Taelian enthusiastically stepped towards one of the teller-stations, guarded by prison-like rails. The young man within greeted him with a fairly stale 'hello' and an unenthusiastic look, as Taelian identified himself and asked for the bank to draft him an officiated check. Informing him that the transaction would take a few minutes as he searched for Taelian's ledger and made the necessary deductions from his account, the mage nodded and beckoned for Riven to come with him. The returned to the foyer, which currently had the auction ongoing in the lobby. It started only moments ago, and as Riven had pointed out earlier, only a few people showed up.
The auctioneer described the home, with sketches of the... rock-island-thing it was mounted on, the hill-cliffs around it, the lake and the adjacent forest. It had every element that the two of them might like; a lake to swim and boat in, an island for their garden and activities, the cliffs perhaps to practice elementalism and for Taelian to learn climbing... and the forest for hunting and even camping. The man described its surrounding geographical features, pointing out that there were no other homes for a few kilometres, and the nearest town was several miles away. This appeared to turn off a few of the interested parties, concerned for their safety. But not Taelian.
There was one woman, seemingly a... barbarian or something of the like but with well-made clothing and gear, that had begun to competitively bet on the home. Taelian responded in turn, raising her only by the minimum amounts in order to frustrate her. Before long she seemed to hit the limit of what she was willing to spend, and a well-dressed man -- perhaps an investor -- surpassed her. Hitting the four-hundred thousand mark, Taelian was nearing his own limit of interest, but so too was the investor.
After a few more rounds, the man made his final bet at four-hundred forty thousand. Taelian raised him ten -- and the cabin was his, to be billed to his Imperial Bank account upon a final acceptance of the deed. He and Riven were informed of what that would look like; they would be introduced to it in person, and the two of them together would have the opportunity to sign onto the deed itself. Taelian insisted that Riven did; even if he didn't have the funds now, he could help pay for it before long.
They were set to see the cabin in six days. It would take that long to finalize the sale -- once the contract was signed, his account would be debited, and that would be that. The teller finally called on Taelian with his check, written to the tailoring business, for the appropriate amount. It was nearly eighty-thousand farthings for his own clothes, and he had also written a check of fifteen thousand to one Riven Kyon. At least so he could pay for his own clothes, with whatever else extra there to keep him afloat as he found himself a source of income.
The Ebon Knight kissed his Arlaed, and grinned. He looked to the sketches he'd been given of their home, within a leather-bound portfolio of images, all drawn by an Atinorin sketch artist. It was all extremely unusual and incredible.
"Think of a name for our home," he tasked the other man. "I want you to tell me it after we sign the papers. If it's bad I'll burn your toast," he teased.
