Legend of Ransera

"Cavete." Nayiri Nykara bade her only son, as he slipped away with his foreign companion. Khyan may not yet have understood the full extent of the threat their family was facing and, as far as his mother was concerned, that was preferable to the alternative. Her boy had always been a social animal- he'd gotten that from his father the politican- but his evenings were more and more free as the trial waxed dire for the defence. A few weeks earlier he rarely had a night free, but now it was rare that he wasn't home. Why not let the boy enjoy his freedom while he had it? She would get to their domus in the Sanctine District to wait out the mists in a more peaceful setting. She preferred wine and a warm bath to the sorts of social spectacles in which her son was wont to revel. Their home in the Umbrium, rarely used as it was, was not as luxurious as its sister estate aboveground, but sometimes it was just nice to be somewhere different. Somewhere quaint and secluded away from the harsh judgement of the sun and its devotees aboveground.

Meanwhile, Khyan had his new friend by the arm and was leading him through a surprisingly calm crowd of temporary refugees from the Luxium who were spreading out from the entry points and dispersing to their various shelters. Finn would recognise the influence of Mesmer washing over the a mass that could have easily become a mob without the mild, calming influence exuded by the silent sorcerers. Khyan was aware of them, too, but didn't seem perturbed by the manipulation. It seemed perfectly normal to him.

"So." He began in his thickly accented Common, with a broad grin, "There has not been time of course for a planned event, yeah? But I know my people, and I know where there will be much, uhhh... merriment?" That word seemed odd on his tongue, but he checked in to make sure he was at least comprehensible.

"When there is crisis we do not wallowing make. That no helps nobody. We either do what we can to feex, or we live life to fullest when is beyond our control. You understanding?" He met the light blue of Finn's striking eyes for clarity's sake,

"I steel know the good spots, Feen. I take you." With two of their arms hooked together, Khyan used the free hand to pat Finn's forearm encouragingly. "We weel dance amidst the Dread above." He grinned almost wickedly,

"I hope you like good mooseek and pretty theengs."

"Yes!" Khyan said enthusiastically, although he only gleaned part of Finn's meaning. 'Proof of life' and 'thumbing one's nose at danger' he didn't altogether follow as it pertained to what he'd said, but he replicated Finn's physical gesture all the same to suggest a comprehension that wasn't present.

Khyan chuckled at the counter, and shrugged broadly.

"I do not know much foreigners, Feen! Maybe mooseek and pretty theengs is not so big deal een the, uh..." He snapped the fingers of his free hand, which he was using quite a bit to gesticulate- though whether that was normal for Khyan or due to the language barrier was, for the moment, unclear. "Inculta terra?" He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, "You know- Kazasi!" He nodded with an encouraging smile, then turned his attentions to the road ahead. As they moved farther from the lift zone, the crowds were thinning out as people split off to their respective destinations.

"Ees good, though, that you have maybe heart of Atraxia in you chest. Maybe thees why you come to Solunarium, yeah? For the pretty, shiny theengs and the Mesmooseek that sings to you very soul, no just you ears." He pointed to his own ear for emphasis, knowing that his accent was probably very thick to one from so far abroad of Solunarium. Being closer to Southern Ailizane, most Solunarians who spoke Common studied a dialect more common to their allies in Auris and its neighbouring states.

The Umbrium was dark without being dim. Artificial light of sterile silvery white poured forth from streetlamps that loomed fifteen feet or so above them. Above that was a true, obscuring darkness that might have brought to mind giant spiders or or gargantuan centipedes. It was that sort of visual void that made the human mind look for threats and monsters, but Khyan seemed unconcerned with any such things. The windows of the surrounding buildings cast more diverse hues of light, but most stark and regular source was those streetlamps- Each light looking like its own miniature moon dangling from an arching, silver post.

"So, Feen..." Khyan began, as he rounded a corner from one of the main streets onto a slightly narrower thoroughfare. "You understand the trial? Thees eenterest you? You are een Kazasi, um..." He snapped his fingers, "...Advocatus?"

"Ah, yes. Law-yehr." Khyan repeated, overenunciating and separating each syllable before concluding with a flipped R. He didn't seem to have mastered its rhotic counterpart.

"Pageantry." Khyan chuckled at the word, which brought to mind one of Her Divine Radiance's beloved military parades, which could be a strain on the eyes after a while. "Yes." He could certainly see how Solunarian justice had a certain theatricality about it. He'd never thought of it in those terms, but hearing it from an outside observer, he found that it made sense. He understood that other cultures were not quite as centred around aesthetics as their own- hence his unintentional insult to Finn's homeland. To Khyan, who had been raised on tales of imperialist Solunarium colonising and civilising distant realms, it was assumed that other lands were better for their influence and lesser for having been cut off from the light of their beautiful desert sun for so many years since.

The acoustics were, of course, glorious when Finn began to sing and his voice carried perhaps farther than he'd intended, echoing through the street and causing a few bystanders to glance over to them. Khyan, for his part, grinned and slipped his arm free of Finn's to applaud him.

"Bravo, Feen! You know the classeeks, huh?" He leaned his head closer and lowered his voice, "But maybe you no seeng role of Aværys, Blazing Be Hees Heart and Fury... You ears too round, even eef your voice ees pretty."

Khyan reached up to ruffle the taller man's hair over his Rune. "You make Mesmooseek weeth thees on you head?" He grinned, realising this may have been a more fortuitous encounter than he'd initially deemed it. A foreign Mesmusicus was a rare find indeed! Being the person to bring such an exotic gem to the party might cause people to overlook his waning popularity- at least for the duration of the party.

By and by, they reached a quarter of the city where the streetlights were a bit dimmer- or perhaps it was just that they were so overpowered by the more colourful panoply of lights shimmering from enchanted signage in the surrounding buildings. He extended his arms broadly and spun to face Finn as he continued walking backwards into the busy neighbourhood- bursting with sound and spectactle.

"Welcome to Noctis Aeternae!"

"Do no worry, Feen." Khyan patted his arm, consolingly. "Me? I theenk you should be able seeng whatever you want to seeng. But no everybody in Solunarium have such, uh... You know..." He tapped his temple with his index finger, and then opened his fingers in a gesture that sought to emulate an outward explosion, "Animo pateret." He wrinkled his nose, "Broad brain? I dunno een Common." He shrugged, giving up trying, as he turned back around to regard the buffet of options before them.

A few of the venues were starting to get busy, already. That wasn't really uncommon in the Searing months, when a lot of people chose to spend their leisure time in the more temperate half of the city. The people who could afford not to work, and those who could at least afford vacation time, often did so in the hottest season.

"Ha!" Finn's demurring drew Khyan's dark gaze back to his fair face, "You no need be so bashful, huh? You een Solunarium now. Mageek make you better than the rabble here. You no should practise Craft on strangers weeth no prompt, but you no need be shamed. Mageek ees only theeng that unite lowest caste weeth highest. You born slave or you born royal, you join Silver Sentinels and everybody has same title. Strong mageek what gets you een. You has strong mageek, Feen. I can tell." He grinned and accepted his arm, gesturing with the other hand toward a spot up ahead with a translucent, glowing sign that hovered a few feet over the street. It seemed to urge with a pulsing light that started on the street side and ended near the door. Khyan walked up to the sign and swiped his hand through it, revealing it to be an illusion.

"Carpe noctem." He agreed with a grin, and reached for the handle of the heavy door. Although it had seemed completely silent a moment prior, sounds and stray lights quickly poured out into the street as they stepped in.

Though the room was dim, it was colourful and striking- with moving lights dancing above elves and humans who were also amidst a dance. An elven woman with white blonde hair played a lyre that emitted tones unlike any Finn would have ever heard. Her instrument emitted sounds as eclectic as a symphony orchestra, but with no such traditional sounds- These were timbres that were devised as they were projected- with magic. Her voice soared above the affected lyre and it, too, was enhanced. Finn would recognise that some of the augmentation was a subtle bit of Mesmer, but there was something else that made her ethereal voice even more otherworldly than it naturally was- Even doubling or harmonising with itself at times.

"Ehhh..." Khyan clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "I theenk broad brain sound better, but that ees just me." He shrugged a tad theatrically, but his thoughts quickly turned to more pressing matters as they shouldered their way into the somewhat crowded nightclub in the land of always night.

He gestured toward the woman on stage with a nod of his head and leaned close to speak directly into Finn's ear:

"Lystreia." The music wasn't so booming that he needed to raise his voice much as long as he shifted the proximity this way. "Very famous Mesmusica. Starborn." Khyan didn't know how much Finn knew of their culture and its reverence for the so-called Platinum Race that blessed the odd elven family in rare and seemingly random births.

"Thees promises to be a good night eef Lystreia plays so early. And een main room! We weell go to second floor. Ees for Magnati, like us." Khyan seemed to have deemed Finn to be a person of import based on his own assessment. Even if the foreigner hadn't introduced himself a guest of a prince, he'd just revealed exotic traits that would make him an enticing peculiarity to the connoisseurs of his class and higher who frequented the second floor of the venue: Vini Ducissa.

"Ah!" Khyan grinned, "Such good manners! Yes, let us have a cup of wine down here before we head up the stairs." Finn seemed interested in the music of Lystreia. Khyan couldn't blame him, and it was really no rush to assert his class by quitting the main floor when such (literally and figuratively) enchanting music was resounding.

Khyan gestured toward the bar, and shouldered his way up- immediately locking eyes with its keeper. "Duo pocula sanguinis draconis." The patrician was pleased not to recognise the barkeep. It might be harder to be served promptly upstairs where he would doubtless be more widely known- shameful baggage and all.

"I hope you like red, Feen. Ees better een Umbrium. For good white you stay een Luxium. I teach you good. Soon you get tan and people theenk you was born to the Vasta." Two generous pours of rich, red wine were placed on the bar before them and muttered the cost, which Finn would pick up easily enough without Khyan's translation as 'Two avens'. Finn would have gleaned, by this point in his Solunarian stay, that the kingdom had adopted the widely used term for their currency that he'd have known from the North. What he may or may not have known was that the local currency, which bore the striking profile of their founding deific emperor, was believed to be called an Aven as a contracted form of Aværys rather than the more widely accepted derivation from Avenna.