Legend of Ransera

Khyan had passing few duties as a slave to his old school chum. He hadn’t actively tried to guilt trip Cetus into leaving him idle and actually he bore a certain amount of guilt himself toward both his master and the other household slaves who were actually expected to work. And so it was that he’d volunteered to do regular shopping for the household. This did not, of course, assuage the envy of the other servi as it was a rather cushy task and many slaves enjoyed the excursion. But alas, Khyan had been born to privilege and his own sense of entitlement blinded him to their umbrage, despite of his mastery at Semblance.

So it was, that he found himself in the Underforum, as he often did during an afternoon. At least insofar as one could discern the time of day in their sunless, starless, moonless corner of the great city. It all seemed rather arbitrary, but he felt compelled to at least remain aware of the rough time of day, lest he further vex his household colleagues by sleeping too late.

His household purchase today was what it so often ended up being: Wine. He was a bigger drinker than Cetus, and more in need of diversion having fallen so low in the esteem of the culture that once revered him. Not so much as to stop him in the street to request his blessing as they might have done to his Platinum grandfather, but enough to have blinded him to many plights he now faced and many more he still hadn’t noticed his colleagues suffering.

Running his finger along the label of an Umbrian red, and using his Rune to delve beyond the bottle for a sense of its Structure, he pursed his lips.

“This one’s gone off.” He informed the shopkeep, before sidestepping the soured wine in favour of a sweeter. “Ah, here we are.” He added the bottle to the stack in his basket and stepped up to the counter to pay.

Stepping out, he quickly scanned the street for any signs of familiar Auras. He liked to make sure there was no one he might be keen to avoid, in which case he might obscure himself from view to avoid confrontation or other forms of awkwardness. His ætheric senses drew him to no such undesirables, though, instead finding…

“Hilana?” He tapped her on the shoulder, smirking as he took note of her present Focus. “Looking for me, were you? Well…” He extended his arms in presentation, his basket of wine hanging at one elbow.

“Seek and ye shall find.”

Khyan chuckled. He hadn't intended for his demonstrative gesture to end in an embrace, but he didn't begrudge it when it came. Still, after a few moments of its lingering, he chortled:

"All right, all right." And started to back away slightly, "Let's not allow the constabulary to surmise that you're taking 'vantages with another man's property, hm?" He nodded in a Northwesterly direction, "The College of Compliance is just a bit in that direction..." In fact it was tall enough a structure to be visible from where they stood, "I'd hate for our reunion to be cut short by your being carted off there for reintegration." He bit his lip, and chucked Tiaz' scaly chin, once he had space enough to do so and sighed.

"Did you really?" He pursed his lips, "I truly don't know what I ever did to leave such an impression upon you..." He trailed off, and then paused as he considered what he'd just uttered. "Although, I suppose you did find me as a black-out drunk black and white bird and wake to find a naked patrician in your bed who had a dramatic ongoing backstory and pernicious prospects for the future, so..." He shrugged one narrow shoulder, "There's that, I suppose. Me?" He sucked in a bit of air through his teeth, and shook his head.

"Oh, you know. Living this slave life. Daily grind and all that. To be truthful with you, I may have been about and you just didn't notice me. I often put my ætheric energies more toward the goal of casting off attention than inspecting my surroundings." It was odd that a feature of his Craft that he'd rarely touched in his life as an attention seeking patrician, had now become his default.

All at once, a grumpy shopper bumped into him and grumbled an annoyed insult at the 'clumsy slave' before bristling over to the nearest candle stall.

"Well... Why don't we hie somewhere less bustling, whilst we play catch up? My life is rather dull perforce, but what has been going on with you? Tell me how things are faring for you on the sunny side of the city?" He inquired, as he began to lead the way South, back toward the Temple of Midnight's Mother.

Khyan nodded, a bit surprised by her easy assent, but not terribly. He did remember she'd mentioned having gotten advice about keeping her head down in the big city. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but he'd been of another caste and had an exhibitionist streak a league long. Now that he was a slave, he could see the merit in the recommendation. It was interesting to him that, having fallen below her own station, it was Khyan who had to remind Hilana about discretion. There was even something oddly gratifying in it.

He kept a hand outstretched toward Tiaz, even as he began to walk them South, just in case the snake wished to relocate to his shoulders again. He let out his little gated hiss sound encouragingly. Either way, it kept him walking closer to Hilana.

"My turf..." He sniggered wryly. That he should ever find the Umbrium his base of operations was an odd thing. Sure, if Prince Vrædyn succeeded his imperial grandmother as Sovereign and a Lunar Court chanced to rise in his lifetime, that would have been one thing. But Solar Sovereign Thalya IV Imperatrix had spent weeks shy of a century on her throne, and even at the best of times Khyan hadn't anticipated outliving the purebred battleaxe. It was hard to predict lifespans amongst quarter elves, but whatever boons his Platinum grandfather might have proffered, he could scarcely vie with their centennial queen. He glanced sidelong to Hilana as she spoke of her recent exploits.

"You caught some wh-...? Oh! Aren't those some sort of mutton?" Khyan didn't know much about things that dwelt the desert abroad of the city, unless they were creatures whose totems he coveted or something that had crossed his dinner table at some point. Aoudads fell into the latter camp and so, after a moment's thought, he did recall the term.

He knitted his brow, confused and perhaps a tad disbelieving at the talk of cyclopes.

"Whyever were you asked to check on a village? Were they in need of herbs or summat?" His eyes darted from hers to the street up ahead, where he could make out the edge of their destination. Sprawling out before the ancient templum, was a garden of old statues from remote antiquity predating even the rise of Vastium. Aværys himself was said to have been amongst those who'd mined the caverns that opened up into this ancient city upon which they built their own.

As they drew closer, the glowing fungi that adorned statues whose faces had long since eroded, seemed bright against the dim artificial light cast on them from the street.

Khyan let his arm slowly descend as the python transitioned to his shoulders and, once his weight was mostly there, allowed his arm to fall to his side. Magic aside, the former patrician hadn't conceived of a better way to conceal his collar than the living shawl that now claimed much of the real estate between his chin and shoulders.

"Not quite a season..." Khyan amended with a careful shrug, as he didn't wish to jostle Tiaz overmuch. "I got out of training and moved into the household on the first of Ash. I'm still a Luxian at heart, and I was pleased to find I didn't lose my tan completely. I guess my complexion is more writ in my blood than I realised." He pursed his lips,

"I know the neighbourhoods I need to. I don't get out of the Sanctine District, often." It was where he dwelt, shopped, met with his lover, ventured on occasion to socialise. He wouldn't mention that, though, lest he invite further criticism on the matter. Hilana had made her thoughts known in the past, and he wasn't keen to be dissuaded from one of the few pleasures he still claimed every now and again. Even if it was a risky one.

"I don't know that I've seen one alive, but they used to cross my plate now and again when I ate better, and I think I know the horns you're talking about." He tilted his head toward Tiaz' as the snake lifted his head nigh of Khyan's cheek, smiling against the tickle of a flickering tongue.

The talk of three-headed wyverns and giant cyclopes (which were already giant in his book) drew his attention back to his human companion, and an arched eyebrow suggested disbelief at first. As if he was waiting for a punchline that didn't come.

"Oh. You're serious? That's..." He pursed his lips, "Your life seems to have changed as much as mine in the past couple of seasons. I hope you consider yours for the better, even if you did have to face down a behemoth." He shot her a sharp glance at the pun about fungi that was nearly serpentine, and far less friendly than any look Tiaz cast upon her.

"Perhaps you've not changed so much after all." He noted dryly, shaking his head in exaggerated revulsion. He went from looking at her to looking past her, and his expression softened and he nodded toward an empty marble bench. The bench was a much newer addition to the garden of statues, though still ancient. Benches had been dispersed throughout the area to allow people to sit and reflect upon the works of the ancients. As Aværys had been among those who excavated this part of the Umbrium, religious significance was placed upon the garden.

He took a seat, and blinked at the expansive spread of foodstuffs Hilana unveiled on the bench between them.

"Um... do you always wander the Umbrium with a small feast under your arm?" She'd mentioned a snack in passing. A detail he'd almost forgotten, but this buffet was quite unexpected indeed. Still... the kofta looked quite good. He plucked one up and sniffed it.

"Hm. I've always preferred tzatziki to tahini, but this looks lovely all the same." He brought it to his lips and took a delicate, scrutinising bite, nodding in approval.

“I’ve been in the upper city a few times, but as a former Luxian seeking to evade the attention of his former peers, it can be more of a chore in the realm above. More people know me up there and many of them are equipped to see through my ætheric feints.” Now satisfied that the kofta was more than palatable, his second bite was a larger one and halved the remaining piece.

His etiquette hadn’t eroded with his station and so he fully chewed and swallowed before responding verbally.

“Friends in the Aurecine now, Hilana?” He arched an eyebrow pointedly. “Our shifting balance seems to make a case for some sort of ethereal equilibrium guiding the wending ways of the world. You’ve supplanted me in society’s esteem.” He offered with a wry chuckle that concluded with his last bite of meatball. He took up one of the bottles and uncorked to sniff at the contents.

“Oh, lovely!” Since the menu hadn’t been announced the presence of the mead was a pleasant surprise indeed, and one of which he promptly availed himself.

“Mm, well I’d not sell the Tertian tavernas short. There are some truly breathtaking spots on the Tertian riviera south of the proper city. There’s truly nothing like beachfront property.” Hilana would know that most of that area was residential, but did boast a few particularly exclusive night spots for the senatorial class and the Re’hyæans.

As Hilana’s focus shifted to matters pastoral, Khyan’s interest in the conversation waned and his interest in the spread of food waxed. He dipped a bit of flatbread into a tub of sauce and tried a few other selections until Hilana finished her enthusiastic little ramble. Her pronounced aversion to social cues, which occasioned to confound him, in this instance struck him as being sort of cute. Whether it was a fluke due to the lengthy span since their last encounter, or a more lasting shift in Khyan’s perspective remained to be seen. But for now he was content to focus on the food and let the prolixity proceed apace in the background.

He drew the discourse back to the foreground when her talk took an earnest turn. He licked his lips in advance of a sip of mead. The allusion to his own circumstances was not overlooked.

“I’m glad you can still grace your desert…” He offered through a forced smile, “It seems you’ve spent a lot of time there of late.” Pursing his lips, he suppressed a smirk.

“So, if I’m keen to rid you of your egregious punning habit, I should explore the possibility of a Mesmer initiation? Mm. Good to know.” Perhaps he’d take Æros up on his offer, after all, Khyan thought cheekily to himself as he gulped down a bit more mead.

“Founders that’s good