Sick of the Silence [Sivan]

[Destyn]

Sick of the Silence

13 Searing, 121

It was only two days since they'd met before Destyn sought out Sivan Sunrunner again. He'd taken to departing through the large bay window in the room he'd been afforded, because it meant he didn't have to cross paths with too many people on his way to the door- Servants, guests and the actual long term residents of the estate that was housing him. He didn't dislike the people and for the most part everyone had been quite nice to him, but he wasn't exactly the most social of creatures lately. Smalltalk with relative strangers just felt like energy he didn't wish to expend, particularly given what a limited supply he seemed to have, these days. At least he'd been sleeping better with a bit of help from Sivan, which was one of the reasons for his visit to the elf's cottage.

He'd retained the way there, following paths in the air with his cryptochrome-enhanced vision that would have been wholly invisible to most, but brought him safely to his destination. He drew lower and alighted his bottom onto the roof's edge, overlooking Sivan's little garden behind the house. He wore a little, red vest with wing slits, short, dark brown trousers that ended just above his knee, and soft canvas slippers that now dangled over Sivan's back door.

His leg didn't hurt the way it used to, but it still tingled quite a bit and it felt good to drape it this way. He placed the crutch beside him and waited. He didn't want to be a nuisance and knock on the door, lest someone other than Sivan answer or he arrive at an inopportune time, so he figured it would be better to just lurk and wait for the elf to emerge, so he could descend upon him and act as though he'd just arrived and hadn't been waiting on his roof like a creep.

Enough time passed without much stimulation that his mind wandered to fell places, and he rolled the worry stone that now hung around his neck from a bit of string, and regarded some of the life below him. He could tell the garden was lovingly tended, and the flowers and herbs sung up to him curious as to why he was being so bashful. He heard a door creaking below him and leaned forward to see a blonde head appearing below his dangling feet. He smiled and pushed himself off the roof, catching his weight with the heavy, rapidfire beating of his wings and calling down to Sivan,

"Oh, hello!" He lowered to about five feet and the screaming of the plants below caused him to drop onto his good leg, so he could cease the airborne assault of the gale force winds he'd been creating. He hummed apologetically to the whining flora and set his crutch onto the grass.

"I brought you something." He reached for a pouch at his belt and withdrew something small, wrapped in paper. "Do you like dates? I brought you dates."

Sick of the Silence

[Sivan]

It hadn't been a terribly long day, but more troubles awaited him at home. IX remained dormant under its sheet. Flower was asleep in his bed and wouldn't rouse for supper. It was alarming to think his curse might be getting worse, but he had been adamant that he wanted to stay in the little house Sivan's apprenticeship afforded them. He might have petitioned Master Jacun for help or at least guidance, and perhaps he still would, but for now, he let Flower sleep and took his supper out in the back.

He was barefoot now, and his coat thrown off so only his loose, billowing shirt remained. The sweat from the summer heat was already dissipating. The flagstones gave way to a cool combination of delicate grass and moss, the brief periods of direct sunlight not enough to desiccate his little temple to nature. The spirits were content, if a bit more alert, and so he was surprised but not alarmed by Destynrael's sudden presence.

The surprise on Sivan's face gave way quickly to a small, tired smile.

"Welcome to my garden," he said in Rivach, his Dratori heritage being more closely related to nature and, perhaps, Destyn and the Everwilds. Then in Common: "I love dates. I brought supper. Would you like to join me?"

He sat on a tiny hillock in what had become the new, natural terrain in his little greenspace. There was a stone bench that he had acquired at his back, the better to lean against once supper was unpacked. Setting out a wooden cup, Zin appeared to fill it with fresh, clean water—probably of better quality than most homes saw in Kalzasi. Theirs would be a fine, if simple, picnic.

"Or you can relax here while I eat if you aren't hungry, but I am hungry." He smiled again. Pausing, head canted as if listening. "Well, the spirits are glad you're here. It isn't the Tranquil Gardens, I know, but if I didn't have a little bit of green to tend, I would get terribly... anxious." Yes, that was the word in Common. Of course, he second-guessed himself frequently still.

[Destyn]

Sick of the Silence

13 Searing, 121

Destyn smiled, pleased that his innocent rouse had gone off without a hitch. He folded and draped his wings into their resting position- limp and cape-like against his back.

"Thank you!" Was rather a mouthful in Vallasren, but he replied in his mothertongue all the same, before taking Sivan's cue and returning to the Common tongue. "Dessert, then." He said, with a gesture to the offering of fruit.

He didn't verbally accept the invitation to dine, but he did hop over to take a seat beside him on the wee mound, nestling back against the bench and leaning his crutch against it, off to the side. He leaned over Sivan's lap to sniff at the victuals and eye the offerings curiously. He hadn't been eating much lately, which probably showed in his pallour, but he usually wasn't as comfortable as he was around Sivan. There was something about his quiet mildness and the regular presence of spirits and flora in his general vicinity that felt like a semblance of the familiar in the midst of so much strange. He may not have been Fae, but Sivan's name sounded Fae, his language was a clear cousin tongue, and his ways were close enough that he felt a kinship with the elf.

He was interested to try Sivan's food, but he'd only really brought out supper for himself without anticipating a guest. Destyn decided it would be rude to partake, unless he insisted.

"I will relax here." He decided aloud, and glanced around the garden from his new, nearer vantage and the plants sang to him, though some were still cross that his wings had been so rough with their delicate leaves.

"Do you hear them, as I do? I do not know how it is for your folk. For us they sing and project their feelings into the world. They do not speak clear thoughts as in language, but sometimes I interpret anyway. Maybe I am wrong, but it is nice to feel understood, no?" His eyes darted down to Sivan's plate, once more.

"What did you make, Sivan Sunrunner?"

Sick of the Silence

[Sivan]

Sivan smiled once more when Destyn sat beside him. He wasn't going to force him to break bread with him, but there was clearly more than the elf was going to eat on his own. Or perhaps Destyn had no idea how much other races consumed. He knew that many people, especially in the city, consumed much more than they needed as if they were hungry for something else and food was all they could think to answer that need.

"Thank you for the gift," he said, accepting the dates and setting them carefully among the other foodstuffs, which he kept closer to Destyn should the Fae'ethalan decide to join him. There were hot pasties stuffed with potatoes and vegetables, spiced to local tastes. Fruit. Cheese. Bread. One knife to cut all things because he wasn't fancy here.

"Oh, hm." He considered. "I don't know how it works with the Fae'ethalan. You are closer to those spirits than I am in many ways. I look like my Hytori father, but I take after my Dratori mother. With the emotional... ah..." He searched for the word. "It is very, very easy for me to get angry. That is one reason I am alone a lot. I don't want to get angry. But the Dratori call it... ah, Spiritwalking? In Common. It sounds better in Rivach. For us, it requires stillness. Inside. Meditation. Trance. We can communicate then with elemental spirits, animal spirits, plant spirits—many are like you say, not thinking in thoughts like we think, not able to communicate like that. Some are older, wiser. Even they communicate in their own ways. Trees dream long dreams and think slowly... Fungal colonies have their own choruses... sort of like bees. Sometimes it is more just a sense. We recognize each other and can help each other rather than live in... not harmony. Unharmony?

"The grass is groaning under my weight, but we both know it will bounce back as soon as I stand up." He flashed a smile. "It doesn't understand humor so it won't tell me not to eat so much so I won't crush it." He thought about that for a moment. "In fact, it thinks about eating in a very different way. I have always Spiritwalked a lot. I need a trance for clearer communication, but I can sort of hear the song all around me all the time. You should come here whenever you need a nap. The garden will sing you to sleep. And the earth will take the bad things you give it and break them apart.

"The rune makes it clearer, too. Communication must be clear to form contracts, whether simple ones for simple spirits or complex ones for those who are lawyers." He offered another little smile.

"Oh, I didn't make. I bought. I was too hungry after work to make anything." Everything was clearly what it was, except perhaps the pasties, so he pointed them out. "Little breaded things with vegetables and spices inside. No meat. I do eat meat, but not always. There is plenty if you change your mind."

[Destyn]

Sick of the Silence

13 Searing, 121

Destyn knitted his brow considering Sivan's explanation a bit bemusedly.

"There are plant spirits," He began, "And there are plants." He was trying to formulate very complex thoughts in his second language to a person whose mastery of Common was weaker than his own.

"For example... if I summoned a bat spirit, it is not the soul of a living bat nor the ghost of a dead one- It is something different. Something else, more..." He absently swirled his left hand as he searched the skies for better words than those he was spouting. "Other, or... Aether is maybe better to say. My people are closer than most, I think, to the realm of spirits, but I did not see or speak to them before my rune opened that window." The winding hand found its way to his sternum, where the symbol peeked out from under the open flaps of his vest.

"But plants and animals that are alive, we commune with in our way. Them I have always known, heard and seen. It is nature to us, it is, um..." He sighed, getting out of his depth again, "Beyond." There were things that weren't describable with words. Instincts and perspectives that one could only explain up to a point, but never a point that would impart true understanding.

"Do you hear plants or only plant spirits?" He frowned a bit, not sure if Sivan would even know. It was possible there were spirits communicating on behalf of the plants or ever that it amused some trickster or particularly needy spirit to playact. There were some entities of the nether realms who were covetous of the corporeal things in this one, and longed to cross into this world as the Fae'ethalan had done.

He leaned closer to one of the pasties and poked it with his finger, then sniffed his fingertip and wrinkled his nose, shaking his head.

"I am a little hungry..." He acknowledged, looking Sivan in the eyes for yet more confirmation of permission, before reaching to take a plum he'd been eying. "Yum yum plum." He declared before taking a bite.

Sick of the Silence

[Sivan]

Sivan ruminated, figuratively and literally, while Destyn described his people's way of communicating with the wild spirits.

"Yes," he answered. Then, "Both, I think. There are the spirits of the living things, and there are the spirits of living things that have died... Ghosts, but not... not quite... And there are the spirits that live on other planes that can be coaxed into this one with a rune and some aether and a bargain. If I concentrate, I can talk to this grass." He patted the grass beside him. "But it is more than one plant that makes up all this grass..." He indicated the little yard. "Most of the time, it is just a whispering song. I could pull a sort of a grass spirit from the Everwilds, though, and tie it here for a time to encourage the grass to grow or..." It was mostly a thought experiment. His contracts with spirits until he had acquired this little house had been short-term and task-oriented. Now his elementals helped him keep his home comfortable.

"If an angry bear came charging through that door, I do not think I would have time to commune with its spirit. It would still maul me if I was in the way of its rage. But if I climbed into its cave while it hibernated, I might meditate long enough to befriend its spirit and when it woke, it would know me for a friend. But I have seen bear spirits in my travels that were not attached to living bears. Not ghosts, exactly..." It was difficult to explain even in Rivach where the lore came from, but more so in Common.

He shrugged and smiled. "I think there are ways that you would communicate better with plants and animals than I would."

His smile widened when Destyn accepted the plum from his little array of food.

"Please, please, cheese," he replied, and cut himself a wedge of a white cheese with a thin, orange veneer instead of a proper rind.

[Destyn]

Sick of the Silence

13 Searing, 121

Destyn tilted his head curiously.

"So... You would say you are talking to my spirit, now?" He wrinkled his nose and shrugged. He supposed that was true after a fashion, but... "My folk do not call all of these things you describe spirits. In Common I would say the, um... Soul? The Soul resides in that which lives and can subsist after the death of the body, while a spirit is what the Summoner calls forth from beyond the Veil. I know the humans sometimes use these words interchangeably, but in Vallasren they are very distinct. Especially for those who bear the rune." He rolled the plum in his hand and took another bite.

"When the plants sing to me I do not hear it through my Rune, as when spirits speak. I hear them through my senses... with my ears, not my aetherial mind. It is as, um... I can see things in the air. Streams and fields of natural energy. For my eyes there are landmarks in the open air, just as there are in a dense forest. It is, for me, very, very different from communing with spirits, which I have only been able to do since I came of age and underwent my Rite of Majority." He considered, "Perhaps because my people were born of another world, our senses are attuned to different frequencies?" He took another bite of plum as his mind wandered further over the strange, cryptic distinction he was trying to make.

"I am sorry. I am not trying to be, um... Teacher-like? I was only curious. I fear the language of humans is ill-suited to describing aspects of the world that are barred from their senses. It is, I think, limiting." His eyes darted down to the cheese Sivan mentioned as he cut it. He sniffed the air leaning a bit closer to Sivan's hands until his head was actually resting against the Elf's shoulder.

"Blegh!" He reared back and returned his attention to the plum in his hand. "Fae only have milkstuffs when we are babies. And never from other creatures." That may not have been true, in fact. The other courts and even the other tribes were wildly different one from the next.

"I only eat fruit and nuts." As if on cue, a beetle landed on his plum and he blinked. "And bugs." He added before biting down on the part of the fruit where the insect had landed.

Sick of the Silence

[Sivan]

"I don't mind you teaching me," he said, quite sincerely. "I like to learn." But he agreed that the common tongue of humans did not lend itself to the nuances of magical and spiritual discourse. "Perhaps I ought to learn Vallasren..."

Cosmology was an interesting topic to him. He knew what the Hytori had taught him, what the Dratori had taught him, and what he had learned from his magical studies. Everyone believed they were correct, of course, and so he tried to ferret out the nuggets of more objective truth in what people believed. If he ever understood the truth, it would likely only be when he was quite old or quite dead. And so he was comfortable not knowing for certain about quite a few things.

"Oh," he said, putting the cheese down before he ate it. "I won't eat it if it bothers you." He watched Destyn mix insect meat with his fruit, not disgusted but rather wondering if the combination would be delicious or strange to his palate. "Do you also eat vegetables?" Different cultures declared different plants in different groups. Vegetables and fruit were not different to some but different to others. And bread came mostly from plants, but also yeast. He supposed perhaps Destyn didn't eat the flesh of mammals, though insects were animals too.

There was so much to learn even from this one person. It was nice that they seemed to get along well enough that they could both learn from each other. Most people gave Sivan bad impressions or he gave them one, and so learning could be had, but not so easily nor so joyously.

The elf reached out for a date and then popped it into his mouth, making an appreciative noise.

"So good."

[Destyn]

Sick of the Silence

13 Searing, 121

Destyn's eyes widened at that suggestion.

"You should!" He exclaimed, excitedly. "You should learn Vallasren! I can teach you, if we can find books. The writing is very pretty, when done correctly and, when spoken correctly, it sings!" He was more smiley at this notion than he'd ever been since they'd met. There was a liveliness to him that peeked out from under the dark clouds of his dolour to rear its golden head, but it ducked back down rather promptly.

"Oh, no..." He grimaced, "The hand that milks the cow is gentler than the calf, so I do not begrudge you your cheese, I just..." He wrinkled his nose again, "It is not for me." He clarified and smiled slightly as Sivan posed a question very commonly asked of him by outsiders to his clan.

"Fruit is the gift of the plant. Fruit is offered up to be eaten and, in exchange, we spread the seed of the plant and broaden the reach of their song. Vegetables are the body. They are taken unbidden and end the songs of vital beings, so... It is not my way to bring this silence, but you may eat what you desire in my presence. It does not bother me. I am not offended when the lion eats the doe, though I grieve for her fawns. Such is the way of things for other creatures. This is nature." It was a good thing Sivan didn't mind him being didactic, it seemed.

"As for bugs, we eat them before they eat us." He winked, "If we are lucky." And plucked up one of the dates he'd brought, since Sivan tempted him with such a favourable review.

Sick of the Silence

[Sivan]

"You are a surprising creature, Destynrael," he said, offering a faint smile with it so he knew it was—if not praise, certainly not criticism. He ruminated on the cheese now that he knew his meal wouldn't offend. Both his peoples ranged the gamut of dietary trends, but especially the Dratori, who were close to nature, knew their place within it—omnivores. "Gentle but also strong." He paused, golden brow furrowed. "I do not have words for it, but you make good company."

He smiled again, then went still as his eye tracked a fly that had landed on an apple. His hand shot out, pinning it there, and then he popped it into his mouth, followed by a bite of the apple. Pleased with himself, he even smiled a bit as he chewed. It was always best to adopt some of one's guest's habits to make them feel comfortable.

"Sometimes my master sends me to the Academy to look in the library or archives for specific things. The next time I go, I will look for some things in Vallasren that can be checked out. If I can't find anything, I will try to copy a few pages out so you can translate and teach me from those. If you like."

Sivan wasn't sure Destyn would want to, but he had seemed actually pleased by the idea of Sivan learning his mother tongue. He knew that it was a relief when someone in Kalzasi could speak Mythrasi or Rivach, or even understood how difficult it was to learn a new language and didn't grow increasingly short with him when his translations into Common didn't go quickly enough for them.

Impatience seemed to be a trend in the city.

"Has the valerian helped at all?" he asked. "Or the stone?"