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The night’s purpose was meant to be split between levity and gathering information; perhaps the spread of it, too, but Finn’s invocation of the Void Lord’s name– Shæoth– had greatly thrown Janus off. Æros had told him nothing of the sort, and even those with a mastery of Semblance saw no trace of His involvement; the boy had only mentioned their Founders, and about Them, he had been vague, but insistent, emphatic. The elder Sælyan’s immediate reaction was to change the subject, but it did make him wonder: if Shæoth was involved, and if Æros was to be believed, what deal had the Founders made with Shæoth? Was that where the wayward slave had gone? Hm.
But still, were his suppositions to be correct, Janus was even harder pressed to understand Finn’s vexation about the loss of his thrall– because really, what value was there in the life of somebody so…replaceable? And then, such a deal brokered through the hands of the divine was beyond the purview of mortals uninvolved, was it not? Regardless, it was a headache the subject was broached at all; it made him wonder why Æros had invited somebody with a bone to pick that was, to him, so pointlessly petty. He’d chide him on that choice later.
Nevertheless, the politician made no further outward expression of distaste; he was, if anything, cordially dismissive as the conversation moved along. And when Rhoenna addressed him, he gave her his full attention.
He smiled, something genuine, appreciative, at her words. “Such high praise, Senatrix; I’m glad you think so.” he’d nod.
“And yes, the spirits are managed almost entirely by Palæmon; he and Æros came up with the idea together. They wanted something a bit more novel, interactive, even, to light up the night. Palæmon claims the spirits he summoned are playful little things, creating their own revelry alongside us. I’m a fan of the result, too,” he continued, appearing perfectly pleased to praise his kin.
And he spoke the truth– with each one of them emitting an innate luminosity, they set the obsidian interior of the manse aglow in an array of colors, soft and gentle like moonlight, yet possessing of jovial, impish energy. Sometimes, the spirits would float down and interact with guests, should they appear willing, and more often than not, they’d encourage indulgence, finding amusement in mortals slowly shedding their inhibitions.
To Hilana, he’d nod. “Hilana’s the source of some of the refreshments here tonight, actually– particularly mezcal and prickly pear mead in some of the cocktails.” the statement half directed to Rhoenna as way of explaining who she was, and half to Hilana herself. “She brought some along as a gift to Æros once, and we’re quite the fans.”
Janus didn’t know much about the girl, but he did appreciate her resourcefulness and…whatever it was about her that managed to consistently keep Æros’ spirits up. Further, she offered them many gifts of fine food and drink, and the greenhouses over which she presided allowed them to purchase, serve, and enjoy a variety of unique ingredients. Even if she wasn’t needed due to the esoteric nature of the tether she shared with Æros, he was happy to have her in attendance.
And finally, to Lyrios, he’d nod. “It was.”
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To Fenryl’s words, Æros tilted his head, expression inquisitive, while Scipio kept his features more austere.
“She is, indeed,” Æros smiled weakly. “And perhaps it is audacious, but I do find matters divine fascinating– I struggle to stop myself from seeking understanding, even in the face of the most impossible obscurities,” he’d punctuate the sentiment with the exhale of a sigh, something that was almost a laugh, but ever so slightly too pained to be. His insatiable curiosity had gotten the better of him many times, clumsy as he could be.
“Nevertheless, I choose to believe that since They halted the process of my death, They’ve some sort of faith in me. So whether or not others believe that claim, I look forward to what the future holds, and to whatever role I am able to play in it.” And this time, his smile was more broad, hopeful.
Scipio could only hope that Æros was right. And really, he did– he believed his step-son, and it brought him some semblance of peace that the boy had been given a second chance. Æros had such potential; it would’ve been a tragedy for his life to have been snuffed out so early.
With regards to what Cællia said about the Founders and the draconic dynasty, though, Scipio appeared thoughtful.
“It is of no surprise, but I do hope for balance. Even if divided, we are still one nation, yes? Too much favor in one direction could breed civil unrest between solar and lunar, and I…fail to see the benefit of that, much as my own favor skews heavily draconic.” The pale sunborn spoke smoothly, but his words were woven with caution.
Æros sighed. “I agree with you on principle– would be a shame if we were to become mired in arguments betwixt our two halves rather than looking forward, outward. I am, however, fascinated to learn who else the Founders will favor going forward,” he did, by the end, speak with some degree of excitement.
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"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
